Taking Flight
by Glimare
Summary: Sequel to 'From Ashes'. Nearly a year since Dick's "apprenticeship" with slade, and he's made lots of progress since then, but there are things he has to do outside the manor before he can move on. So he goes on a roadtrip to put to right as many things as possible. Fluff abounds & questions are answered. When he comes home, what will he become? 'Dead Inside' ends here
1. Roadtrip!

**Disclaimer:** Ownership of DC comics characters is one thing I wish I had. Unfortunately it's also impossible at this present time. Too bad. I think I'd do a pretty good job with them.

Well, here it is! The last part of the 'Dead Inside' trilogy! Remember, this is about redemption, not action or comedy or all those lovely things. It has that, yes, but this is a redemption story. if you haven't read the first to, do. Now. They're in my profile.

Without further ado, Taking Flight.

* * *

**Taking Flight**

"Do you really have to go?"

Dick looked to his pouting brother sitting on his bed. It was strange to see in general because one thing Tim wasn't was a whiner. He didn't pout, whine, or complain about the hand he'd been dealt. He gripped and mumbled on occasion whenever things didn't quite work out in his head or seemed unfair, but pouting like a child? That was weird.

Yet there he was, pouting on the young man's bed while questioning and objecting to the course of action he was about to undertake. An army issue (bat-issue actually) backpack was sitting there, being filled with clothes, medicine, food, weapons, and other necessities, all of them Dick's. He was figuring out if there was anything else in his room he should take with him, anything he'd really need or would want while on his trip. Tim was supposed to be there to remind him what those would be, and so far he only added a few small items because of him.

Still he smiled at the kid. "I've done everything I can here Tim. The rest I have to do in person. I need to make things right."

"But can't you wait until summer vacation or something?" The teen whined again. It was endearing how much the guy didn't want him to leave. Fourteen years old and he acted like a five year old who was just told his dad was going on a business trip. Well a normal five year old. Since this kid's parents were always gone like that, he probably had a different reaction to them leaving. Kinda made sense why he was so determined to keep his brother around as much as possible when he said he was going to be leaving for a while. "Then we could all go together and-"

"Tim," Dick looked the boy squarely in the eye as he spoke, "I have to do this alone. The things I have to do... they won't mean anything if Bruce tags along and does them, and you're not ready for them yet. I've waited until Spring Break to take off so everyone could see me off.

"I'm not leaving for good and I'm not running away." He gave his successor a reassuring smile. "I'm just taking care of a few loose ends and figuring out what to do next. With any luck, I'll be back here before summer vacation starts. Then we can really have fun."

"You promise?" There was a plea in the boy's eyes. He really didn't want his brother to leave. Tim was uncomfortable during the times Bruce or Batman left town for a couple weeks, anxious and unsure of everything. It was almost unsettling how much the kid worried about business trips rather than late patrols. One of the permanent emotional scars left on him courtesy of the Drakes. He hated not knowing where people were for long periods of time. He had to have contact with them while on their trips, to know how things were going. Kid almost had a full-blown panic attack when Batman seemingly vanished for three weeks, no contact whatsoever. Secretly Dick was scared too but Bruce neglecting radio contact wasn't that unusual for him. Ended up being abducted by aliens for a small war (half the League too) and was teleported straight into the cave when they were done.

So he knew why the kid didn't want him to go, at all. He ran a hand through the boy's hair affectionately (something Tim had finally gotten used to), smiling at him. "Can't promise on the date, but I can promise I'll be back. You can count on it."

"Better not forget your cellphone and charger then." Tim inclined his head to the two items on his bed stand still. He nearly had forgotten them. Quickly Dick grabbed both, stuffing his phone in his pocket and the charger into the bag. He also grabbed the book he received from Clark and stuffed it inside. One thing he learned during his years as Slade's apprentice was that sometimes life just got boring and you wished you had a book with you. Besides, some of his favorite stories were in it.

"Anything else you can think of?" He looked around the room again. Certain things, like his favorite stuffed toy or photos of his family and friends, were staying there for safe keeping. Proof he was coming back. Anything else that he didn't need would also remain where they were.

The boy shrugged, still down cast. "Computer?"

"I can just borrow one from any Wayne building in the country," the young man reasoned easily.

"Tools for your bike?"

"Already in the saddlebags. Emergency supplies and camping gear too, the stuff I can't carry."

"A map?"

"In the bag, plus three GPS units." He waved his phone at him, grinning. "Got a bat-com on my belt too. Not losing one of those again. And it connects to the Watchtower when needed."

"Can it tell time?"

"No but this can." He held up his wrist and the watch Tim had given him for his birthday earlier that week. Twenty-two and living free. It was his first real birthday in five years and he loved every minute of it. Still, recalling the previous four had driven him to doing this even more.

Seeing the watch seemed to calm the boy down a bit. "What about keeping warm? Motorcycles aren't known for keeping people warm."

"Jacket's right over there with my gloves." Dick pointed to his ill-used desk and the items in question. The jacket was custom made, black leather with dark blue lines going down his arms from his shoulders (one of many presents from Bruce, who was always over compensating with gifts). It really looked like he was ready to go.

"How long are you going to wait to cut your hair anyway?"

He looked at the kid then to the side, not really thinking about the question. Over the past five years he'd been growing out his hair. Partly because he was so busy being mad with Slade and never bothered to cut it, and partly to keep his apprentice self away from his true self, Dick Grayson. But he still hadn't cut it, even after being free of that madman for ten months.

That was how long ago it was when he was finally freed from that assassin's grasp, ten months. The previous May, he and his master were supposed to kill Mayor Krol of Gotham City, but Batman and Robin kept getting in the way. When the two duos clashed a third time, Slade had nearly beaten Batman and started taunting him, threatening to take the third Robin as his apprentice as well. Though the Renegade brainwashing was nearly complete (how Dick was back then), hearing that threat made him snap and attack his master with everything he had. The suddenness of the attack threw Slade off guard and Dick won the fight pretty quickly, saving Batman and his successor. It had also ruined what effects Deathstroke's training had on his mind, giving him a chance to heal once Bruce took him away from the madman. He spent the past ten months healing and getting fully past all of that. The first four were the worst of it, but once he managed to start talking to Bruce about things in the fifth month, everyone could agree he'd be fine again.

A grand total of ten months since his freedom started, and he still hadn't chopped off that eighteen to twenty inches of hair he had grown during captivity. Why he hadn't he wasn't sure. Long hair was annoying. Still, he kept it for some reason. "Dunno. Maybe once I get my head together. There's a few things I want to get done while I'm gone. It's on the list."

He looked around the room one more time. "I think that's everything."

"I guess."

Both of them felt the pain of loneliness start as he zipped up the bag. "Okay, so there's cell service nearly everywhere right?"

"Nearly," Tim agreed, sliding off the bed. "With yours, only in a few areas will there be no service. Like Atlantis, the moon, interior of the Earth, north pole, south pole, Themescara-"

"Okay! In the US," he emphasized, holding back a laugh, "I've got service everywhere right? 'Cause I'm not going to any of those places. Well, maybe a cave or two but... I am going cross country. Empty fields of grain and all that nature stuff. I think I'll be camping a lot."

"That sucks." By the way the kid cringed at the idea, it was clear he didn't care much for camping.

"Okay, just for that, we're going camping as soon as I get back." An impish grin grew on his face. "We'll call it wilderness survival training and Bruce will be all for it."

"Hey!"

"Sounds good." They both turned from their playful teasing when they heard their mentor comment at the door. He looked a bit tired but that wasn't too surprising considering the tough patrol he had last night. His dislocated shoulder was in a sling and Alfred was just behind him, making sure he didn't over exert himself like normal. Both had accepted Dick was leaving for a while, and had taken it much better knowing it wouldn't be forever. This was not going to be a repeat of his running away nearly six years ago. "I'll put it on my calendar. In stone."

"Must you take the motorcycle Master Richard?" The butler complained again in a dignified manner. It was his one objection through the entire process. "A car would be much safer and would provide shelter when needed."

"It would also provide a lot more temptations," the young man insisted, picking up his jacket and putting it on. "Back seats and all that. Plus I'm better at fixing bikes than I am cars. Parking won't be an issue, gas will be better... There's just a lot of reasons I want to use it over a car."

"And there are many other reasons why a car is much safer than a motorcycle. Deadly accidents are much more likely to occur on them than in cars being one of them."

"Alfred," it took all his self-control not to roll his eyes as he explained himself yet again, "I drove cross country on that bike before, when I first went to Jump. It served me well then, it'll do just as well now."

"And with the modifications and repairs since then," Bruce interrupted, "it's even safer. There really isn't anything to worry about. He'll be fine."

The man's confidence in him brought a warm smile to Dick's face. He wasn't always this supportive of his actions, but after another long talk the other night, he understood why he had to leave or a while. It was part of his healing process, a time to redeem himself and give him a chance to forgive himself. Though he had accepted much of what had happened while he was away, there were still the things he did as Slade's apprentice to handle. Everything that could be done from the manor was done. But there were some things he had to do in person.

And that was why he was leaving, to take care of that.

"Glad someone agrees," he quipped.

"Fine is a relative term," Alfred reminded them, giving his former ward a pointed glare. "Especially in this household. Will you need help taking your bag down stairs Master Richard?"

For a moment he considered saying no and that he had to get used to the weight, but then he thought about Alfred and how he was. Service was his 'language of love'. He couldn't deny him this. "Maybe a little."

Finally smiling, the butler took the bag while Dick picked up his helmet and gloves. Soon he was leading the three of them out of his room and down stairs to the garage where his bike was waiting for him. A good one too, custom built naturally and not too flashy for a civilian (with hidden features of course). As they traveled, reminders were given and minor questions were asked.

"You've memorized everyone's numbers correct?"

"And addresses." Dick smirked over to his worried mentor. "You can keep track of where I've been when I bum over to at different Leaguer's places. I'm not turning off any of the GPS gizmos either."

"They aren't written down or in your phone right?"

He rolled his eyes. Worried less for his safety but more for his alibi. Dick Grayson technically wasn't in Gotham, or in the US. He was still 'abroad' and would stay that way until he returned and the adoption was finalized. Having a double life sometimes really sucked, but it gave him privacy. He'd be going by Robert Grays while on the road, officially. His cover was being a college student on a retreat, all expenses paid by Wayne Enterprises. Robert wouldn't know the identities of the Justice League, or where they lived.

Dick Grayson though did. And as soon as he was out of Bruce's city, the numbers of his closest friends, League, Titan, and civilian alike, were going into that phone. Yes he had them all memorized, but that was in case he lost it or needed to use a payphone. Man he loved contact lists. And having a phone that read your biometrics as a passcode made that more secure than others. "No, it's empty except for yours, Alfred's, Tim's, and Bab's numbers. Oh, and Pop Haly's. Can't forget him. And there's Leslie. She's an emergency contact."

"Did you call Barbara and tell her you were leaving?" Tim asked out of curiosity.

That won him a smirk. "Call? No. Visited with her and talked about it two days ago. I'll be giving her a heads up that I'm going when I'm past city limits."

"She's all for this?" The teen blinked at him owlishly.

"Wouldn't say that," he admitted, "but she understands it. I owe her big when I get back."

"Dinner and a movie?"

"Bit bigger than that."

"Maybe you can take her camping instead."

"You're not getting out of training that easily." Bruce gave the kid a slight glare, making him duck his head. The man shook his head. "Do you think you have enough cash?"

"I... think I can make due with a thousand bucks Bruce." Were they really having this conversation again? "Breaking it down into smaller bills without attracting attention is the only thing I'm worried about."

In the garage at last Dick pressed the button to open the large metal door. Late morning sunlight peeled in, making them wince a bit. Though two of them were birds, they were all still creatures of the night. He fastened his jacket a little tighter then worked on his gloves. Another custom leather set. Really, even when he was supposed to be roughing it, he looked like a rich boy. Well, a week or two on the road would fix that.

"If you need more cash-"

That made him turn on his soon-to-be-official father with a sharp, annoyed glare. "Bruce, I was born in a trailer, raised on the road, grew up in a circus where we all helped out. A thousand bucks for my family took care of gas and food for a month, eating out. Plus other expenses and frivolities. I think I'll be fine on my own with that much for more than one month. Quit worrying about money.

"Besides, I also have that credit card." He just rolled his eyes again, moving on. "I'll be fine. You just remember to be careful and look out for each other out there okay? I want to come back to something other than another grave."

Chastened, Bruce grunted, a pout peeking from his features. Though he acted like he was okay with this, they all knew better. Not being there for Dick all the time worried the man. He just tended to display it with criticism and money other than directly saying it. Typical Bruce.

Dick looked over his family once again, ready to leave. "Well. This is it. Can I get a few hugs before riding off into the sunset?"

"It isn't evening yet," Tim objected, only to get caught up into a tight hug. His brother was laughing.

"Figure of speech Timmy." He smothered his face into the kid's hair, encouraging him to return the hug in full. Didn't take long for him to feel smaller arms wrapping around him tightly. "Man I'm gonna miss you baby bird."

"I'll miss you too." The teen's sad voice told him he was already missed. After a minute they parted, a plea in his successor's eyes. "Call every day okay?"

"As often as I can," he promised, getting a smile from him at last. He really was going to miss him. Well why not? Tim becoming Robin and being there helped him escape Slade and ensured Bruce stayed sane after Jason's death. Without realizing it or doing anything terribly dangerous, he saved two lives; and those two lives would do anything to keep him smiling.

He looked over to Bruce, his heart already in his throat. Last time he parted from him, they were both angry. This time was so very different. The next time they saw each other, the law would be recognizing them as father and son. "So, hug?"

That earned him a raised eyebrow, joking very subtly. "I still don't understand your obsession with hugs."

"Says the man who gives really good ones." Not waiting for a response, Dick threw his arms around the large man and tightened his grip. Automatically Bruce laid his own around the young man's body and held him with equal vigor. He claimed not to understand the gesture, but his actions always said otherwise. Bruce was the best hugger in the world, when he let himself be. Even with a dislocated shoulder.

"Love you," came his soft whisper, inaudible to the others around them. Words rarely spoken in that house somehow reached his ear at last. Instead of verbally responding, the man just squeezed him a little tighter, silently returning the phrase. Bruce never was that great talking about feelings anyway.

"Don't work everyone too hard," the young man reminded him softly.

"No guarantees." They parted, smiling at each other. "Take care of yourself out there."

"Will do." Dick went over to Alfred, relieving him of his pack first and putting it on his back before surprising him with a hug. It took a second but the old man relaxed and wrapped his own arms around him, holding on to him gladly. "Be seeing you soon Alfred."

"Just remember to eat right," the butler reminded him as they parted. "A steady diet of pizza and fast food will not support a growing athletic body."

He laughed. "Okay, I'll make sure I get something healthy every once in a while." Seeing the man's face cringe was hilarious and everyone else had to agree. Letting go of him, Dick moved to put on his helmet and get on his bike at last. "Keep an eye on the news. I have a feeling what I'm up to won't be kept quiet."

"Looking forward to it." Bruce smiled slightly, making Dick grin again as he revved up the motor. He waved back to them before putting his hands on both handles and speeding out of the building. His smile became forced as he got further and further away from the place that had sheltered him for so many years and brought healing, family and hope together for him. It always hurt to leave home, but he had things to do, people to see.

It was time for him to take flight once again.


	2. Kent Visit

Lois Lane laughed merrily at her fiancé's side as they made their way up to his apartment. Hers was nice too, but a bit messy at the moment, covered in papers. If they were going to do some work that night, that'd be the place to stay. But they just celebrated for a job very well done. Short of the man of steel being called out for some crisis or another, they were just a normal couple enjoying after date festivities.

"Here's to our next Pulitzer," she mumbled, a bit tipsy. She was a happy drunk. And her wonderful fiancé who happened to be an all-powerful alien in glasses, couldn't get drunk at all. He leaned her against the wall while he fumbled to get his key into the lock. "Cheers!"

He laughed, unlocking the door. "You've been saying that all night Lois. Maybe you should just sleep it off at your place."

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmm... no." She giggled at him, swaying still. "Papers are everywhere from that last job and your bed is so much fluffier. And, you're a great alarm clock."

He laughed again as he opened the door and started leading her inside. "Well, helps I can still hear the cock crowing in Smallville. C'mon. Let's get you... what the..."

The owner of the apartment stopped, barely through the door when he realized the lights were already on inside. And someone was there. Lois looked up and spotted an open camping pack next to the couch and some hot guy with long hair in a low ponytail and a sweet jacket coming in from the bathroom. He looked just as surprised to see them as they were, especially since he had a toothbrush in his mouth.

"Dick? What are you-"

The young man held up a finger, pointed to his mouth and the toothpaste within, then to the bathroom, stopping all questions until he could empty his mouth. He was gone and back within a minute, wiping his face. The guy still looked surprised. "Wow. Didn't know you two had progressed this far in the relationship. I thought you'd be more the type to wait until after marriage but...wow..."

"Dick..." Clark helped bring Lois to the couch so she could get some control over her faculties. Boy was the guy hot. And familiar. She could swear she saw this kid before. Wait, he wasn't a kid... if he was a kid, she was old! "What are you doing here? How'd you even get in?"

"Window." Dick thumbed over to a nearby window, one usually unlocked so Superman could get in and out easily. On the seventeenth floor. Whoever this guy was he wasn't normal. "And I'm... I was... planning on sleeping on the couch here tonight before heading south. I'm certain I can find an empty office I can crash at instead."

"Out of the question young man!" Lois nearly shouted, catching both men off guard. She was too happy-drunk to care really. "Offices stink! You're staying here. We can have a threesome!"

If the guy's eyes weren't wide in surprise before, they were now! "Ah... no. I don't do that. I'll just get my things and go."

"No! Stay!" the woman insisted, pouting slightly. "You're pretty!"

"Ms. Lane," he awkwardly started, "I really am intruding on your... date. I should be going."

"Dick," Clark took the young man's attention once again, pained a bit, "what are you doing out of Gotham?"

"Road trip," he stated flatly. "I thought Bruce would have told you I might be stopping by. Or... did he purposely not tell you just to get under your skin?"

"Wouldn't put it past him." The reporter shook his head, groaning a bit. His girlfriend thought it was funny. "Are you sure you should even be on a road trip?"

"Can't stay in that house forever. I figured this would be a good stop over for the first day, but since the two of you are clearly busy, I'll just-" Without warning Lois wrapped her arms around his waist, clinging to him. "What the..."

"Stay. Clark makes good coffee."

The men exchanged looks, slightly at a loss. Lois Lane was a very willful woman, and twice as much drunk. Clark ended up sighing, giving in. He usually was the one giving in after all. "She's got a point Dick. It's past eleven. All the hotels and hostels will have closed their offices by now. And I'm sure Bruce would kill me slowly if I let you sleep in one of his building's offices instead of my place. But it's just this one night right?"

"Just a stop over," Dick agreed. "I took care of everything around here before coming by. I'll explain that in the morning. I'm beat and she's drunk. Deal?"

That won a smile from the man of steel. They clasped hands and shook, smiles coming to their faces. "Deal. And might I say, it's good to see you again outside of that house. Hearing you were cooped up in there all the time just wasn't right."

"Don't I know it. Now..." He pointed to the woman falling asleep on his waist. "Can you get her off of me?"

* * *

By morning Lois had a bad hangover. It was the gentle tapping and chattering in the kitchen that woke her up, along with the blaring sunlight. If it were another morning it'd be a nice alarm clock. But right then... Well, aspirin and a cup of coffee by her bed was a good thing, but not seeing her bra and everything else on fine was weird. Running her hand through her hair she found it. Just how drunk was she?

Fixing her appearance and taking her much needed medicine, she tried to focus on listening to what had woken her. Voices and clinking metal. Two people at least were in the kitchen both male. Who was the person Clark was talking to? Slowly she crept out of the bedroom and towards the general living areas, all with the intention of listening in. Once a snoopy reporter, always a snoopy reporter. She did vaguely remember a third person last night, one she felt she should have known.

"...burn it."

"I'm not!" Clark insisted. "I've cooked eggs longer than you've been alive!"

"You really want to date yourself like that?" Humor dripped from the young man's voice. Bit charming too. "And why are you putting the paprika in now? You should wait until it's mostly cooked and-"

"I've made scrambled eggs before Dick." The older man sounded exasperated. "I don't need advice there. Even expert kinds from Alfred." There was a slight pause before he joked. "I'm surprised you know anything about cooking, what with Bruce's abilities and all."

"Oh please! Just because he taught me how to fight and solve crimes doesn't mean he taught me how to cook! When Alfred was gone, I was the one making Mac 'n Cheese. Bruce really has no talent in the kitchen." That earned him a couple chuckles. "I learned to cook so I could eat. Even when I was with Slade I could..."

His voice trailed off, a death crushing silence filling the void. Eventually he finished the sentence. "I learned to cook everywhere so I wouldn't starve. Even learned how to stand tofu thanks to Gar."

"So you're not quite over him." There was a seriousness there she hadn't heard in a while. Made her wonder what they were talking about even more.

Dick huffed out a sardonic laugh. "You don't get over something like that so easily. Just learn to move past it."

"So that nightmare you were having last night..."

"You heard that?" Lois blinked, leaning in a bit at the young man's hesitation. Nightmare? "Did I scream out?"

"No. Rolled around a lot and mumbled in your sleep though. Kept saying 'no I won't' and 'I'm sorry' and 'Master please stop'. You sounded like you were in pain. Made me wonder what you were dreaming about."

Another pause, longer and inviting. It made Lois lean in some more. "You remember that huge storm a few years back in Georgia?"

"Remember? I was there helping the locals get to higher ground. What does that have to-"

"I was there too." A tone she didn't recognize entered the guy's voice. He certainly wasn't happy. "Slade... he... he used the storm as a cover to kill a few people. Leaders in the drug cartel there... and a few corporate big shots Luthor and a few others wanted out of the way."

"What?" The idea dropped on the reporters like a rock, but she kept silent. Those people who were declared dead and washed out to sea... big shots like those didn't just die. Someone should have looked into it, but the storm really was the perfect cover. What was this guy doing there? And associating with some killer?

"Everyone blamed their deaths on the storm. He wanted me to do a few of the killings but I refused." He had a hard time explaining this. Just as well; Lois was having a hard time accepting it. "As punishment... He ended up leaving me outside in the storm over night, chained to a post. With a gag. Couldn't even cry out if I wanted to. That's what I was dreaming about."

"Dick... I didn't even know." The strongest person in the world sounded completely heartbroken. Dick must mean a lot to him. To receive such treatment... being with a killer... the guy was a victim of some kind of kidnapping. One Superman couldn't even stop. No wonder he sounded so hurt.

"I haven't told Bruce about it," the young man admitted. Bruce... Dick... it was at the tip of her tongue. Who was this guy who was so familiar? "Haven't told him about most of what happened, or about my nightmares. He doesn't ask. Just stays with me until I can calm down. They haven't been that bad in a while. But I thought..."

There was nothing said for a moment then... "If I was there you might feel just as safe."

"You're the closest thing I have to an uncle," Dick admitted. Lois blinked. They were that close? "And I've been a fan of yours forever. It was kinda a test, being here last night, on the couch. If I could manage not to scream out here, I knew I'd be fine on the road."

"I'm glad you trust me that much," Clark murmured.

"I've always trusted you. I just hope you can always trust me too."

"Of course I will." There was some laughter in his voice now. "You'll always be that charming kid flipping around in pixie boots and scaring everyone to death with your antics. Nothing will change that."

"Well, with Bruce being Bruce, you never know how things will change."

"You're not him."

"Yeah... I know. And... you're burning the eggs."

"Rao!" She could hear him use his freeze breath a second later, then some clapping.

"So that's how you handle it! We always had the fire extinguisher on hand when Bruce cooked. And said goodbye to the good pans."

"That's why I have cast-iron."

"Hm." There was a small pause, making Lois lean in again. Weren't they going to talk more? "You know Ms. Lane," she nearly jumped a foot when she heard Dick's voice just next to her. He was grinning and leaning against the doorway a second later, fully dressed and ready to roll at a moment's notice. "If you want breakfast, you actually have to get into the kitchen. I know it's very male dominated at the moment, but if you want to take over... that's up to Clark."

"Uh huh..." The career woman straightened, putting up her best smile for being hung over. She could tell from the way his eyes danced that he was enjoying making her jump. It was all too familiar. She didn't even hear him come towards her. "And how is it that you know Clark Kent?"

Dick blinked at her for a moment, slightly in surprise. "You... Well, this is weird. You were the one that insisted I stay the night ya know."

Just how drunk was she last night?! Her head hurt a little more but she glared at him instead. His face was deathly familiar. "Just answer the question kid."

"Well... I met him when I was twelve, me and my mentor. About ten years ago now that I think about it." He looked like he was thinking about it, then looked over to the kitchen again. "Hey, you came by Gotham because of some Luthor connection with Joker right? Pretty sure there was some big robot involved somewhere too. I just remember Bruce being jealous."

"Yeah... How do you like your toast?" Clark was clearly still busy making breakfast.

"With your mom's strawberry jam if you have it. Otherwise, I'll take it with just butter." Lois scowled to herself. He had Martha's jam? Just how close were these two?

"Still like it huh?" There was some pride in the man's voice. Well of course there would be. It was his mom's jam.

"Love it. Just wished I swiped some from Alfred's pantry when I took off for Jump the first time."

"You know," the man of steel's voice took a curious tone, "you never told me why you ran off six years ago."

"And I never will." There was a charmer's smile on his face, saying 'please drop it'. "It's over, it's done with, and I'm not doing it again if I have a choice. We worked it out and now it's just a fact of the past. That's how you squeeze oranges?!"

"WAIT A MINUTE!" Lois raised her hands and voice to get the guy's attention again. These two were just too at ease with each other. Dick blinked at her in surprise, silent for a moment. She pointed at him, glaring slightly. "You know Clark through his other job?"

"Uh... Yeah. How else did I come in here through the window?" He thumbed over to the window Superman usually came in and out of. Parts of last night were returning to her at last. He had mentioned it before.

"And you're from Gotham." She had to get every bit of what she learned straight through her head.

"Well, I wasn't born there," he admitted, "but I spent a good chunk of my life there and it did direct me down this path. You're really hung over aren't you."

Things started to circulate through her aching head. Gotham. Vigilante. This guy was too young to be Batman, but his first Robin... Bruce Wayne was Batman, and his first ward... "Dick Grayson? The first Robin?"

This brought a smile to his face. "Wow. I'm impressed. You figured that out from eavesdropping. But..." He pointed between her and Clark in the kitchen. "Considering you know the truth behind him it wouldn't be that hard. How long did it take you to figure out Clark and Superman were the same person?"

"DICK!" Clark shouted, not at all happy.

The young man shrugged in his defense. "I never heard the story. So? How did you two finally get together? I mean, you should have seen those death glares he kept giving Bruce every time he flirted with you."

"Diiick..."

"Where have you been?!" Lois had been working things out in her head for a minute. Richard Grayson, Bruce Wayne's ward, seemingly vanished without a trace six years... "Wait... you ran away?"

There was a slight cringe on the guy's face as he ticked things off. "Ran away, got kidnapped and manipulated, managed to overpower my captor, and been in recovery for the past year. But... officially..." He gave her a pointed look, making sure she understood how confidential this information was. "I've been traveling abroad, getting a rounded education after going to a boarding school, and taking care of some wanderlust of mine. I haven't returned to the US yet. I don't think I'll be scheduled to for at least another month. Clear?"

"But... Ran away? Kidnapped?" She looked over him as if he were insane. "The public has to know."

"No they don't." He lost his smile completely at this point. "The nature of my abduction, and why I ran away, has more to do with Robin and the crime fighting community than anyone likes. In fact, Slade hasn't made the ID connections like you have. And that case is already closed.

"Now if you want an exclusive load of tips for major crimes going down in Metropolis, along with the answer to a few cold cases," Lois snapped to attention at the mention of tips, and the smirk playing on his lips, "I suggest you keep my private life private."

"We're investigative reporters," Clark insisted coming out with a spatula. "We investigate and expose bad guys, not the private lives of rich kids having emotional issues. Who's up for breakfast?"

"ME!" Dick raised his hand excitedly like a kid in grade school, dashing over to the small table in the kitchen a second later. "I'm starved! How about you Ms. Lane?"

She eyeballed the young man for a moment, trying to figure him out. He clearly went through a great deal while being missing, and didn't want to talk about it. Was the childlike exterior an act or was it how he really was? Could be a coping mechanism... Well Clark seemed alright with this so it must not be that bad. She wanted to push the guy into telling her more about what happened to him but judging by the warning look her partner and boyfriend was giving her, she shouldn't press. She didn't want a fight while hung over anyway.

"That's Lois to you young man." Now that she thought about it, she could recall meeting Bruce Wayne years ago with an excitable kid just like him. Time really flew by if now she thought that kid was hot. She came over to the table and sat herself down, making the men smile. "And what was this about leads on major crimes?"

The circus boy laughed, lifting a large file he had at the table the entire time. "During my... forced disappearance... I came in contact with much of the criminal community. My captor set up a few things and had some allies here. I was thinking," he passed the file over to her, a dark grin on his face, "you two could handle what was left of his influence here. This is everything he was connected to in Metropolis and the surrounding area: resources, contacts, jobs he did, and who he did them for. Even where you can find evidence. Everything's in order of time importance.

"If done right, all of this can lead to the incarceration of about a dozen crooked men in power, and about fifty other lower end criminals. There's a lot more of course, but..." his grin just got wider. "There's only so much a nobody traveling around can do."

"How long were you in Metropolis with that psychopath?" Clark demanded, serving both of them only slightly charred food. He always insisted on serving his guests, and it looked like Dick was used to the treatment as well.

"About three weeks total," he admitted, "and he was really careful about each visit. Most were while you were on monitor duty. Don't ask me how he found out when that was, but I was rarely in town the same time you were. Pass the jam?"

Lois was looking through the file, intrigued and starting to bubble with glee. She was at least fifteen stories stemming from its contents. It was definitely worth keeping quiet about a six year mystery. "Thanks kid. But I bet you give out tips like this to all the pretty girls."

Dick gave a short laugh. "Actually, those were all meant for Clark. But since you work together and I don't have the time to crack down on these guys..." He grinned, taking the jam and working it on his toast. "Consider it Christmas.

"Now Clark? I've got a few questions about that Kryptonian legends book you gave me."


	3. Council

Riding on the open road along the east coast was probably one of the most refreshing things he'd done since earning his freedom. The ocean on one side and the road before him... it was wonderfully freeing. Seeing nothing but trees, grass, and water for miles and miles was a wonderful change of pace for him.

He couldn't count the times he was stuffed into the back of a trunk or blindfolded while on the road with Slade. For a long while he wasn't allowed to know where he was or where they were going. Didn't even know the date then. Talking to Bruce about it once, he learned it was part of his brainwashing. Controlling environments and perspective made him more pliable. Until the urge to run was gone, he was trapped with a monster.

But now... Now he was free.

More than once Dick just pulled to the side of the road and watched the scenery. Letting the wind tussle his hair... soaking in the countryside... hearing the waves and the wildlife... it was so peaceful. Sitting on the roof of Wayne Manor gave him a similar peace, but it wasn't the same. He was still a bit bound while there, to a building and the people inside. Though he loved it all dearly, there was nothing quite like the freedom that came with traveling alone like this.

He stopped and sat on a grassy hill about a week away from Gotham to call home. He'd done other quick calls before then, but he hadn't really taken time to just sit back and relax as he talked. "Hey Alfie. How's it going?"

"Oh the usual I'm afraid." A note of humor entered the butler's voice. He was working on something on the other end, and judging by the low hum of a small motor, probably sewing. "Master Bruce has escaped the cave without letting his shoulder finish healing and has dragged Master Timothy into a case involving Mr. Freeze."

"Yeah, heard Tim say something about hypothermia last night. Did he have to really get soaked in some bath?"

"Frozen near to the core," Alfred confirmed. "The rogue has changed some since your time fighting him. Have you caught up on the criminal life in Gotham?"

"Pretty much." He leaned back against the grassy knoll he was on, basking in the sun. It was a particularly nice spot. "If I can't remember, Tim can bring me up to speed. He's got a computer for a brain."

A fond chuckle filled his ear. "Indeed he does. And how do you fare Master Richard? Eating I hope."

"Eating what I can find," the acrobat agreed. "Dug up some carrots not too long ago and cooked a good potato over a fire the other night. Also had some jerky, cheese, bread, and a granola bar before you get all huffy on me about my diet. When I get into town I hit a good place and order wisely. Don't worry too much about it."

"And how often are you in town?" Some bite came to the old man's voice, making him cringe.

"At least once a day, usually twice. Slept under the stars three nights this week, and in a hotel when the hostels were full." He looked at the clouds, hoping they'd tell him what to say to the old man to make him worry less. Nope. No answers there.

"Hmm... Have you been sleeping well?"

"Mostly. Had a crick in my neck for about half of yesterday but that's about all the problems I've had."

"Hm. Have you read the Daily Planet lately?"

That brought a smirk to his face. "Nope! But I'm sure there are some excellent stories coming out. Always are in Superman's city. Anything interesting?"

"Very interesting actually. Shall I keep a copy of them for trophies? I am not quite certain which articles are from your efforts and which are not. Ms. Lane and Mr. Kent do not restrict themselves subject wise."

"That'd be great Alfred, thanks." He looked at the sky again, then at the GPS and map he had in one hand. "Look, I have to call the feds in a few and help them locate a missing person before moving on to the next town. I'm pretty sure the guy was in this general area..."

"Then I will not keep you-"

"Can you do me a quick favor though?" A slight plea entered Dick's voice. "My phone doesn't connect to the batcave and I need to make certain someone is still on the loose."

A pause on the other end, clearly from confusion. "On the loose sir?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Deathstroke was a mercenary. A soldier for hire. It wasn't always about killing and he wasn't always hired by bad guys. That child prostitution ring he and I took down nearly two years ago was a lower paying job from a really upset parent. Since Slade was sympathetic, he brought down the price. Still want to know what happened to those kids but..."

He shrugged. Most of those kids were better off if they didn't remember him anyway. "The list of names for my other targets is under SWBO on the computer. You might recognize a few from old incident reports, or from the news."

"I see..." The sewing machine on the other end came to a halt, telling him he now had Alfred's undivided attention. "May I ask who this person is?"

"I'm in West Virginia right now," Dick informed him, standing up at last. "The person I'm aiming for should be in Tennessee, but I can't guarantee that. He's been heading east so I might be meeting up with him soon."

"I asked for a name." Some annoyance was in the old man's voice now. After finally getting rid of the man's wrath for a minute or two, it was back. Great.

"Onomatopoeia."

He could hear the surprise from the man. It was a rather unusual name after all. "Excuse me?"

"Onomatopoeia. He's a lesser known criminal. No other name on record. Somewhat a theme villain because he only says sound effects, but he's a pretty good fighter." He brushed the grass and dirt off his back and pants, mulling over what he knew. "I don't know a lot about him other than... Well, he never said thank you for what I did."

"Which was?"

Dick licked his lips before answering. "Broke him out of jail."

"I see." There was a note of disapproval in his voice, exactly what the young man didn't want to hear. In private he had taken care of a lot of his mistakes from Wayne Manor. But there were some things money and information alone could not do. Taking care of escaped convicts who were deadly and unpredictable for most organizations was one of them. "Did you make a habit of this?"

"Not exactly... There are a few others on the list but..." He looked away, despite being on the phone. Truth be told, helping convicts escape was one thing he didn't mind near as much when he was Renegade. Couldn't stand the guys but he had saved them. Very twisted logic there, but it stopped him from vomiting every time he had to. "I think only one other was a killer, maybe two. I know where one is right now and he'll be easy to take out. But if I remember right Onomatopoeia isn't too far away. So can you double check where he is on the computer? Please?"

There was a long pause on the other end. Alfred was showing his displeasure in his usual fashion. He knew the reproach was more for Slade and what he forced Dick to become, but it still hurt knowing the old man didn't approve of his actions. Eventually though he heard the tapping of a keyboard. "The man you are looking for appears to be still in Tennessee. What for I cannot determine from this location. Even the Oracle is uncertain."

The acrobat breathed a long sigh of relief. "Thanks Alfred. Any recommendations for dinner tonight?"

"I could ask you the same question." That won a laugh from him, his nerves leaving once again. "Master Bruce can be such a difficult person to feed, as he tends to ignore his bodily needs on a regular basis. At least Master Timothy will listen to his stomach when it growls. Preferences?"

He thought about it for a moment, hmming to himself as he started to wander around where he was. "Last I checked he liked veggie dishes. Got a good casserole or stir fry for him? And chock it full of beef. He likes that and it'll help put some fat and muscle on those bones of his."

"That does bring a recipe to mind," the butler agreed. Both of them had commented on Tim's diminutive size before, easily passing for someone fresh out of elementary school. Kid ate well, but still didn't grow at a normal rate. He would probably never get close to six feet, but being small had its advantages too. "As for you, I recommend Franks. It has a marvelous Italian menu last I was there."

Dick rolled his eyes. "GPSed me huh?"

"One does wonder where you are from time to time."

He chuckled to himself, looking around still. This area looked familiar enough. Now to find his marker. "Alright, I'll look it up once I'm done here. Tell Tim I'll be working late so I can't call him tonight. A feeling tells me he wouldn't be able to get my call anyway, not with Freeze on the loose."

"Nor with Penguin under watch."

The young man nodded, spotting something distinctly familiar. A rock formation what wasn't likely to change any time soon. He was close. "Know how that is. Kay, I need to go now. Later Alfred."

"Another time Master Richard."

Both men hung up and devoted themselves completely to their tasks. Dick headed over to those rocks, then looked around for another stone. A flat one with a cross scraped into it. It was a personal grave marker. Took twenty minutes to find it, but it was worth the trouble. Sighing heavily, Dick looked over to his GPS and make it memorize the location. Before sending it over to the FBI with a name, he had to confirm there was still a body there.

"Don't worry fella," he murmured sadly. "I'll get you back to your family. Sorry I couldn't save you back then. You or anyone. I just hope I can give all of you peace now."

After a minute more, the young man knelt on the ground and started digging out what he put in there nearly four years ago: the body of an adult male, late forties, whose only crime he knew of was crossing the wrong person. A person who could hire Deathstroke to kill him.


	4. Flash

Flash raced through Keystone, trying to catch a criminal that'd been on the loose for the past couple of years. One of the rogues his uncle fought calling himself Heat Wave was starting fires on the other side of town. He hadn't fought him before so this was going to be a pretty interesting.

Quickly the speedster made it to the apartment complex and started making a trench around the place, forbidding the flames from spreading beyond the complex. The fire department was already there working on the flames, and they'd been working on clearing the building from the beginning. Finding Heat Wave though was his main concern. He had to stop the pyromaniac from causing any more damage. This was the fifth fire this month, and it was barely the beginning of it.

Once he was certain the fire could be contained, he darted around the site to try and find some clues as to where the madman went after barbequing the place. Heat Wave liked to leave a calling card, a certain starting point for the fire where his initials were scorched into the wall. Maybe he'd find something there, at the gas main. Within seconds he searched the former maintenance room of the building for any clues, only to find a burnt up match set from a local bar below the letters. Well, it was something. Just as the local police arrived (far more competent than in other cities, gotta love Central and Keystone), he took off towards the bar. There had to be some kind of clue there. There had to...

His beeper went off (yes, he still had a beeper), making him pause for a moment to read the message. Another fire was starting at the edge of town. Forget the bar. Pivoting on his heel, he turned a 90 degree angle and headed straight to the next problem area. Within seconds he was there, running as fast as he could around a local pool to suck up the water and send it onto the barely starting flames. They were out fairly quickly, which was a surprise. According to Barry's records, this guy made fires at every twist and turn. Completely nutso. Why were there so few flames? Even in a rural district like this one?

After a second to breathe, Flash dashed around, trying to see if he could find Heat Wave nearby. Maybe the early report meant he was still setting up shop in that sector. Grinning, the speedster zipped to the heart of the damage. That had to be where the lunatic was.

And sure enough he was, along with someone else. Someone he hadn't expected to see in Central or Keystone for a while. A grin spread across his face at the sight. Heat Wave's gear was on the far side of the room while the rogue himself was tied up in a nice little package, out cold. The city's visitor whipped off a domino mask, turning to him with a grin. "Hey Wals!"

"Dick!" Flash ran into his friend, giving him a tight hug. "Great to see you! What are you doing so far from Gotham? And bagging bad guys..."

He looked suspiciously over to the pyromaniac still unconscious not too far away. Dick shrugged, giving him his trademark smirk as they let go of each other. "Thought you might want some help bagging this guy. After all, he wouldn't be out causing trouble if it weren't for me."

"Come again?"

The acrobat smirked sadly. He clapped the speedster on the shoulder and thumbed over to the villain of the day. "Let's get this guy over to the cops then I can tell you all about it over a drink."

* * *

"So..." Wally hefted a can, grinning impishly. "Can you hold your liquor birdboy?"

The two of them had retired at the speedster's house right between the sister cities he patrolled. It wasn't much, but it was home. Worked pretty well on a student budget at least. Still had a year to go before his forensics degree and could get the job his uncle had. Dick would sleep on the couch with a sleeping bag while he enjoyed tangling himself in his own beds sheets. But in the meantime, both would be having a party on the couch getting reacquainted.

Dick raised an eyebrow at him, only slightly interested in the can. "The real question is, can your metabolism handle it without a monster hangover?"

That made him laugh. "Not really. Still working out the kinks in that. So what brought you here?"

Both popped their can's tops (root beer as it turned out) and settled on opposite ends of the couch. Dick sighed slightly, guilt entering his face. "Heat Wave actually. That breakout of his a couple years back? Yeah... I did that, along with a few others. Been putting everyone I released back behind bars." A dark smirk grew on his face while surprise ruled his friend's. "You should have seen the look on Deadshot's face when I popped up at his hotel room and all his ammo was switched with gum. Didn't stand a chance. Onomatopoeia kept screaming snap, crack, pop, and all sorts of things when I surprised him and dislocated his limbs."

"That's... a bit harsh, isn't it?" Wally couldn't believe his ears. The Dick Grayson he knew five years ago wouldn't be that mean to the bad guys. He was more of the knock out, tie up, and leave for the cops kind of kid. Swapping bullets for gum on the baddies was in his character, but now multiple dislocations? Whoa.

The acrobat smirked sardonically. "That guy is a lot more dangerous than he sounds. Even Slade had problems fighting him. Releasing him from an ultra-high security prison was a test, and I passed. You'd know what I was talking about if you fought him. The only way the cops could take him back is if he was badly injured.

"I just immobilized him, that's all. The feds will deal with the rest soon enough." He took a sip of the soda, then looked at the carpet. "It may have been harsh, but it was necessary. How I beat up Two-Face last year, that was overkill."

His best friend watched him in silence, seeing the pain in his eyes. Dick was still the compassionate kid he knew all those years ago, just a lot more weathered. He must have been thinking about what happened to him a lot over the past year, and all the choices he had to make. Their phone conversations covered a lot of things, but they never did cover certain subjects.

"Yeah... heard about that..." Wally looked around, trying to change the subject. "So you're in town to just take down a pyromaniac?"

That lightened the young man's mood for a second. "Not exactly. He was just an excuse to visit before heading to the next unmarked grave."

"Unmarked grave?" That creeped him out. Wait... wasn't there this thing in the news about some unknown tipster calling the feds a lot, telling them where to find bodies all over the country? The first one was about two weeks ago near the coast. About twenty had been uncovered since.

"Yeah. Been ending a lot of cold cases." Dick leaned back into the couch again, looking straight at him, somewhat haunted but not near as much as when he talked about the crimes he had to do. "Slade killed people all around the country, and I had to bury the bodies. Didn't have GPS coordinates then, so I couldn't tell anyone where they were from Gotham. I've had to find them myself and make sure they were found that way.

"Also been unveiling a bunch of weapons caches and hideouts Slade used," he added. "Not easy, but worth it. I'm completely dismantling Slade's resources and destroying his credibility. No one was supposed to find those bodies."

"Bet he hates that," Wally grinned. These were the consequences of taking his best friend and trying to turn him into a bad guy. "So you're the cold case solver in the news."

"Guess so." He shrugged. "I haven't had time to check out the news. Alfred's keeping copies of my supposed exploits in the Daily Planet so I can see where they lead later, but I'm not paying much attention right now. At the moment, I'm just focused on making sure I don't miss a grave site."

"How many are there?"

The man froze for a second, then set the soda aside. "You don't want to know.

"But enough about me and my sadistically satisfying life." He turned the tables on his host, giving him an impish grin. "What about you? I haven't heard much about your personal life, and I see pictures of beautiful women on your wall."

"Oh... Those..." Wally could feel the blood rush to his face as Dick stood up and started snooping through his photographs. "Ah... some are old girlfriends and others are just friends."

"I certainly hope so. I'm up here." Idly the acrobat looked through all of them, letting his friend get even more flustered as he identified over half the people. "And so's Barry, Iris, that archer girl you had a thing for... Is that Jinx?!"

"Ah..." The speedster was at his side in an instant, trying to get the picture before he could be exposed further, but Dick's hands were always quicker. In seconds the man had the picture taken of him and his ex at the fairgrounds in Jump. "That's..."

"It is!" Disbelief poured from the visitor's face, gaping at the girl in it. "I thought she was with the HIVE! What are the two of you doing on a date?!"

"I flipped her okay!" That got his friend's attention, making him look at the man seriously. "When the Brotherhood of Evil was going after Titans and other young heroes, she and I met and we talked and... well one thing led to another and I convinced her to leave the HIVE. She stayed clear of them until two years ago."

"What?" Dick let his friend take the picture away, surprise still on his face. Clearly he didn't know what was going on beyond Slade and his excursions. "What happened?"

Sadly Wally took the picture frame and put it back on the wall. "We broke up when I left the Titans. My metabolism was starting to kill me. She tried the civilian life for a while, then decided to go solo when it didn't work out. There were a few in the HIVE who wanted her dead and waited until the two of us were over to get her. They used a talisman to send her somewhere. I can't go after her. The Harald told me my vibrations would only make her even more lost. Last I knew, he was still looking between dimensions for her."

His friend just gaped at him for a long while, letting everything sink in. "She... she's not dead..."

"Being lost between universes is worse than dead I think." Sadness came whenever he thought about Jinx's fate, along with knowing how useless he was to help her. Powers only gave you so much, but it also could hurt you. Everything came with a price.

They stood next to the pictures for a while, silent. Eventually Dick spoke up. "You know, I always did think Jinx was the smart one in their group. I bet if you met her before she joined the HIVE, she would have been one of the greatest heroes out there."

"I think she'd be glad to hear you say that." Wally gave a sad smile remembering his old flame. Jinx wasn't easy, but she was definitely worth it. They put the picture back where it belonged in honor of her.

"So..." His visitor awkwardly tried to fill up the air between them after a moment. "Um... Any other people or changes I should be aware of?"


	5. Nighttime Call

Hearing his phone blaring _The Stalking Song _would normally be a good thing in Dick's mind. If only he wasn't asleep on a hard dirt floor at the time. Rocks and twigs, despite his best efforts, were poking into his back and he barely managed to actually pass out maybe an hour ago. Still he reached to the side of his head and answered it. "Mmmm...'Lo?"

"... Sorry... Did I wake you?"

"... Tim?"

"Sorry... I'll call back later." The kid sounded shaken and lonely, besides disappointed in himself for being inconvenient. Typical Tim.

"No, I'm up." He rubbed his eyes, focusing on his brother's voice. "Wazzup?"

Silence on the other end for a moment started to worry him. The line was still open and he could hear him breathe, but he wasn't saying a word. Only one thing he could make him act like this. "Nightmare?"

"...Yeah..."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"...Kinda?"

Sighing, Dick could guess what the nightmare was about. It was easier to talk about ones where people around them were dying. They could reassure each other the people were fine or would be proud of them. But other things... "Wazzit 'bout that night?"

He could hear the teen nod on the other end. His slightly trembling tenor tried not to break. "Any idea... why I dream of things that... didn't happen?"

"Hmmm..." He looked at the stars and wondered out loud. "I think I heard from both Bruce and Slade, that the anticipation of pain is much more terrifying than actual pain. It's a lot easier to handle retakes than our own imaginations. We're our own worst enemies."

"So... your nightmares about your apprenticeship-"

"Were worse when I didn't know what I was going to do the next day. I had nightmares..." It was still hard to talk about. "With me standing on a mound of bodies. Saw myself killing my friends... putting acid on the ropes... taking a gun and..."

He didn't want to say it. He didn't want to tell people about the dreams where he killed Batman, Bruce, and Alfred. Those were the worst ones. The nightmares revisiting his training and torture were far more bearable. "What I could do and what could happen, scared me more than what did happen. It's one of the strange things about being human I guess. Though we've gone through some traumatizing things, we keep coming up with possibilities, and those are much worse."

Again he could hear the boy nodding on the other end. Dick wished he could be in Gotham at that moment and really comfort his kid brother. That kidnapping last September shook him up pretty good, and now he had a new set of fears coursing through him. Mostly Tim did alright whenever he had nightmares; he really understood the whole meditation thing Dick never could quite manage as Robin. It was sometimes hard to believe he was only fourteen. Some days he seemed older than Dick! And for a person with a troubled mind, that was rarely a good thing. The kid needed comfort, reassurance that everything was alright and he was safe.

"Hey, think you'll be able to go back to sleep soon? I mean, it's a school night..."

"In a bit."

"You know you can always sneak in to Bruce's bed if you're having trouble-"

"I'm fourteen Dick! I stopped sneaking into my parents' bed when I was three!" There was the fire he knew the guy had.

"That's not very encouraging," Dick murmured, once again thinking less of the Drakes. "Me and my folks used to sleep together all the time. And I still sneak into Bruce's every now and again."

"That sounds so wrong..."

"Hey! His bed is huge!" A bit of teasing came into his voice. "I doubt he even notices I'm there half the time. It's just nice to know he's nearby."

"I bet that went over real well when he had a girlfriend over."

That made him laugh. "Oh that. He'd lock the door then and put a red light next to it on the outside whenever one of them stayed the night. I typically scared them off within seventy-two hours. So who's with him tonight?"

"He's not here." There was a pout in the kid's voice, striking at the young man's heartstrings. Ah. So that was why he was having nightmares. "He's off on a Justice League mission, then said he'd be going on a business trip soon after. The League one was unavoidable and the trip's been planned for a month."

"I see..."

"... When are you coming home?"

Dick smiled sadly, knowing how Tim was when he was left alone. He had a lonely childhood and had clamped onto a single memory of his family being together at the circus for dear life. Sadly it was also the same night his parents were murdered. Why the Drakes hadn't helped their young son during that time was beyond him. Why they went on so many trips and put their son in a boarding school also escaped hm. And on one of those trips they were kidnapped: one murdered, one in a coma. Business trips now made him worry.

"In a few weeks," he promised, keeping it as vague as possible so he wouldn't be lying if it was in a month. Honestly he was making good time. Over half of those he released were back in custody, and there were only a few more graves and cashes to uncover. There was one particular visit he really wanted to take care of personally before coming back to Gotham, and another he needed to do.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Where are you at anyway?"

The young man grinned, glad he asked instead of checked his GPS. "Oklahoma. Dropped by the Kents the other day to restock on supplies, and send some mail out. You're getting a souvenir."

"From Oklahoma?" The confusion in the kid's voice was very amusing.

"No, from Slade's last weapons' cache I raided. Samples and schematics for things he had there I couldn't figure out, plus a shiny bobble or two. And they're coming from Kansas. Haven't you met the Kents?"

He could hear Tim shake his head. It was weird how he could hear body movements over the phone, but he could. "They're Superman's adoptive parents right?"

"Yeah..."

"I haven't really met anyone in the crime fighting community. Well, except the Leaguers who know Bruce personally and your friends who came by. And don't even think I'd meet their families."

Dick sighed heavily. "You really need to meet people Tim. In this life, the only way you'll have fun is if you've got friends in the job. Course with Bruce giving out introductions..."

"There really isn't anyone out there my age anyway."

"Point." He looked at the stars above, seeing Tim's social dilemma. Sighing heavily, he decided to give up for another day. "I'll just have to drag you onto a road trip and meet people that way. How about that?"

"Sounds exhausting."

"Party pooper." They could both tell the younger bird was tired but still not over his nightmare. "Hey, Bruce still leaves his bedroom door unlocked for Alfred to clean when he's gone right?"

"Um... maybe?"

"Alright then."

"Why?"

The big brother grinned. "Surefire good night sleep trick. Take Mystery Dog-"

"His name's Faramir."

"-and the phone," Dick ignored the interruption, thinking the name was ridiculous (kid needed to get out of the fantasy realm already), "to his room and await further instructions."

"Why?"

"Just get up and do it Timmy. You'll thank me later."

"Uh huh..." He could hear the teen get off his bed and start shuffling down the hallway. After a minute he interrupted their silence. "You're going to make me sleep in his bed aren't you."

"Wow, you are a smart one."

"Dick..." a slight whine came to his voice, "this is ridiculous. I can't just go into someone else's room and sleep in their bed."

"Can when you've got sleeping problems!"

"But Dick-"

"No buts! You are never too old to seek the comforts of the soul. Now get in his empty bed, lay down, put me on speaker and listen to my bedtime story." His snappy lecture was met with silence on the other end of the line. He didn't know what Tim's next move would be; this was so much easier when he was right next to the kid. If he was there, he could pick him up and drag him to the master bedroom, cuddling him into submission. Guaranteed he wouldn't have nightmares after that. "And don't forget to hug the dog."

A heavy sigh finally answered him. "You are such a dork."

"A lovable one though." Dick could hear him moving again, even opening the door and hopping onto a bed.

"The story better be good and not be a lame one about elephants and clowns like that last one." The pout in the teen's voice was partially teasing, but he went with it anyway.

"What do you have against elephants?!" That got a chuckle out of the boy, so he kept going. "And my stories aren't lame! English was one of my better subjects. The one you came up with last time for why you were late to school was worse."

"Right... keep telling yourself that."


	6. Widow

Dick took a deep breath, not sure if he could do this. He had to do this, but it was... His mind flashed back four years, to the last time he was in this neighborhood. Slade had given him some alone time, or so he thought. Turned out it was a test and he failed it. Failing this test resulted in dire consequences. For him and for others.

He had to talk to them.

Shaking slightly, he knocked on the front door of the house. It was dark but not dark enough for everyone to be in bed yet. Just dark enough for him to hide his face. He let his hair down to cover part of it, scared to look at these people in the eye. Over and over again the young man told himself that he had to do this, that if he didn't he'd regret it. And the last thing he wanted was regret.

After a minute of waiting, the light next to him turned on. He pulled his hat lower over his face, obscuring it as much as possible. As necessary as this was, facing it was near impossible. Still the door opened and a woman in her late thirties answered. "Can I help you?"

He just stood there for a minute, voice paralyzed. A critical, weary look in her eyes told him she'd slam the door and call the cops if he didn't answer soon. Taking in a shaky breath, he started. "Eliza Brady?"

"Yes..."

He took another breath. "I... have some news regarding your... your husband, Officer Ryan Brady."

Eliza turned stark white for a moment, then an angry red. Now she was the one shaking. "My husband is dead. They found his body buried in the woods with a branding iron as a headstone."

"An 'S', I know." He looked at the ground. He choked once again. "I was there."

"What?" The shock on her face, the horror, it was worse than he expected. Daggers drove themselves deep into his heart. Slowly though, he pushed through.

"Please listen to everything before you do anything Mrs. Brady. This... this isn't easy for me."

"You killed my husband?"

"No!" Dick jerked his head up, desperately making eye contact for the first time. He looked down again, guilty. "But I am the reason why he's..."

Again he lost his voice. So hard... all of it. He took another breath and tried again. "I... was someone's captive... for a long time. A very bad man whom you're better off not knowing the name of. A mercenary and assassin. He... he was coercing me to be his student. I had a few hours away from him around here and I thought I'd... I was trying to give someone a message, one that would save my friends and free me. I dropped a note in your husband's pocket.

"An hour later he was dead."

The woman just stared at him for a long moment as it settled in. Her silence encouraged him to speak further. "That man... he took your husband's body out into the woods where we were hiding out. Hunting actually. He was trying to... I... I dug your husband's grave, tried to give him as much respect as I could. My captor... he wasn't happy with it, at all."

He couldn't help but to fall silent at this point, not knowing how much more he had to say or what would help her accept this. She only watched him while the guilt settled in. It was one thing he wished he could have stopped, but back then escaping Slade and saving his friends was the only thing on his mind. After a minute or two, Eliza spoke, cold and controlled. "What was with the branding iron? There was only one shot through the head and we found him before he... We were starting to think serial killer."

"That was..." He looked to the side, hoping he didn't have to talk about this. He took another breath and kept going. "What I did made him really angry. A couple days later... He and I were on that ridge." The young man pointed to a hill pretty far off. "Had a fire going and that brand heated up as well. He told me, I had a choice: either brand myself or watch him shoot you and your kids."

"Oh my..." Dawning and horror mixed in her face, her voice losing all venom. "You..."

"It was all I could do at the time. Mrs. Brady, there is nothing I can do to make up for what happened. I left the branding iron on his grave so he could be found. Not a lot of graves could be found so I-"

"You're that guy on the news! The one going around the country uncovering old graves and solving cold cases." Some awe came into her voice and he knew she'd be crying soon. He could hear it in her voice. "The person who killed my husband... who took you... he... he killed all those people?"

Dick nodded slowly. "And you saw it all happen..."

Again he nodded. "And you did nothing?"

"This guy nearly killed the Justice League and the Teen Titans, single handedly." He shook his head in disappointment. This was the worst part of his apprenticeship - having to let all those people die. "I did what I could at the time."

Silence again. It was almost unbearable. "I... I couldn't save the others... but... It was my fault you lost the man you loved. I'm... I'm really sorry. I wish I could do more-"

"Is that man behind bars?" Her voice shook slightly, filled with emotion. He nodded. "Did you put him there?"

Again he nodded. "Yes, I did. Or rather, finally managed to overpower him and turn him into proper authorities. Interpol has him."

"And all the bodies... all the others... they're being linked to him?" Eliza needed the reassurance.

Once more he nodded. "They know. They also know who killed your husband, but it's better you don't. For your safety."

"He can't come after us," she assured him, but Dick knew better. It was only a matter of time before Slade escaped or someone paid off all the right people to get him out for a job.

"He has no reason to." The former Robin looked at the ground. "I memorized your husband's name and district so I could come back and apologize one day, when I was free."

"I'm glad you did." It was her turn to look away. "Not all widows get answers about their husbands' deaths."

"If there's anything you need," he started up again, ridden with guilt still, "for you or your kids, call this number." He passed her a card, a simple business-like card with just a phone number. It was one Bruce gave out to victims he wanted to keep an eye on. They were usually hurt because of something one of the Justice League members did during a mission. Part hotline, part charity, it was the best he could offer if she wanted to contact him without revealing any identities. Would make it clear he worked with the League now, but that didn't matter. "They'll be able to get in contact with me and I can make arrangements to help."

She took it and just stared at the number for a minute. After biting her lip, she looked up at him, smirking spitefully. "Do you know what it's like? Telling your kids their daddy's not coming home anymore? Waking to an empty bed?"

Pained, he slowly shook his head. "No. I just know what it's like being the orphan, and knowing I can't stop a murderer five feet away from me. I really am sorry Mrs. Brady. More than... more than anything... I wish I hadn't dropped a note into his pocket. There's a lot of things I wish hadn't happened, but they did and-"

"Ryan was one of the best men in the world." She wouldn't let him finish. "He was a wonderful husband and loving father. He believed rather strongly in justice. The fact you're owning up to this and are making sure all his killer's victims are being found, and making sure that... that monster... won't see the light of day again... You doing all of this, he'd be proud of you."

A pause, making Dick rub his neck awkwardly. "I'm... I'm just doing what's right. Now that I can that is. I really am-"

"Just answer me one last question." She tried to catch his eyes now, despite the darkness hiding his face. "When you took down that monster, did you do it out of revenge, or for justice?"

The young man watched her for a good minute before answering. "Both? I was so focused he didn't take another boy and do the same to him what happened to me, I didn't really think about it. I just... I didn't want someone else to live with what I did. What I do. Didn't want anyone to die, inside or out."

"So you stopped him." That gained her yet another nod. She returned it, looking at the number. "If I want you, who do I ask for?"

Relief flooded him at long last. She understood, and she was starting to forgive him. "The daring boy on the flying trapeze. You're better off-"

"Not knowing names, I get it." She looked down at the card again, not really seeing it. "Thanks. For telling me everything. Not even his partner told me-" she looked up to say more and only saw open air "-what happened... in the... investigation... Weird."

Dick hid in the shadows ten feet away, on the roof, and waited for her to go back inside before even attempting to really leave. He didn't want to say goodbye any more than he wanted to say hello. Pulling one of Bruce's tricks seemed right for the occasion. Part of him was glad he came, the rest not so much. He only really wished he never had to in the first place.


	7. Family Dinner

Bruce sighed heavily entering his hotel suite. Another grueling day as businessman Bruce Wayne. He couldn't wait to get back to Gotham and the familiar skyline tomorrow afternoon. Batman needed to think clearly, and he couldn't do that while stuck behind a desk in Idaho. As much as he wanted to help people and maintain his status as one of the richest men in the world, some days he just wanted to be Batman, and only Batman.

Course if Alfred knew about the pulled stitches and bruising and strained muscles under his shirt, he'd be confined to the cave for a week. Some days he could swear the man acted more like a mother hen than a butler. He was worse than the League who only left him alone because he assured them he wouldn't be swinging from rooftops for a week because of work. Day jobs were a necessary evil.

Stripping himself of his tie, jacket, and cufflinks, Bruce made himself comfortable as he looked around for the menu for room service. There was a tart they served he wanted to try and Queen had said this hotel had some of the best cooks in the country. Though Oliver was a sassy, overrated drunkard, he did know where all the best hotels and parties were. So far he was right here too.

He scowled when the menu wasn't where he left it last. It had better be housekeeping that moved it or so help them... Taking a paperweight off the coffee table, the CEO silently prowled the room. A window shade wasn't the way he left it, and there was a candy bar wrapper in the trash, and only the wrapper.

Someone was there.

Silently he crept down the hallway leading to the bedroom he was using, hypothesizing it'd be where the intruder would be lying in wait for him if they hadn't jumped at him already. Who was there? Why? And who was their target? Bruce Wayne or Batman? Only a small number of people knew they were the same person, and all of them had the skills to get in there undetected. He came up next to the door, slightly ajar, and peeked inside.

No one. Just a large camping bag at the corner of the bed.

_Flush_

Jerking around he looked to the bathroom door nearby and saw it open. His jaw dropped a fraction as Dick came out of it, completely at ease. Their eyes locked onto each other, both surprised to see each other so soon. "Dick?"

"Ah crap." Instantly the young man pouted, snapping his fingers in protest. "I was going to sneak up on you too! This is what happens when you get done early Bruce. Your secretary out here swore you'd be back at seven! Nice paperweight."

Blinking, Bruce placed the makeshift weapon on an end table and gaped at him. "Dick, what are you doing here?"

Dick shrugged. "Figured it'd be cheaper and easier just to use your suite tonight instead of trying to find a place of my own last minute. And since you didn't answer the phone last few times I tried to call, dropping by sounded like a good idea."

"Been busy."

"You're the one who told me to stay in contact."

"Phone broke."

"Right..." He eyed the man for a moment. "And you didn't replace it because..."

"Been busy." Bruce relaxed his shoulders slightly, shaking his head. The same expression was appearing on his son's face.

"You kinda need a cell phone Bruce. Really helps with work, staying in contact with people, getting intel, ordering pizza-"

"Did you order pizza?"

"Just the best kinds. And a highly caffeinated soda, liter sized. Now about the phone-"

"I still have my comlinks and if someone really needs to contact me, the hotel phone or Laura's will do just fine. I was enjoying the quiet. Couldn't you have ordered something else?" He started leading the young man back to the living room of the suite, bantering like in the old days. "You're not a kid anymore."

"I have simple tastes. And what's wrong with soda? Has plenty of carbonation and caffeine to satisfy your needs."

"It also has a high amount of sugar and that has never been good for you." Bruce pinched his brow, remembering numerous sugar highs with his first partner.

"Says you. I quite enjoy it." Dick grinned like a maniac at him as he flipped over a couch and flopped onto it. Bruce shook his head, smirking slightly. Typical Dick.

"You didn't have to clean up the mess." The CEO settled down into a nearby lazyboy, the correct way.

"Neither did you. Alfred got all the dirty work. And I didn't make that big of a mess."

"Hm." The man watched his young charge for a long moment in silence, a soft smile peeking through. "It's good to see you Dick."

"Same here." The acrobat's grin just got bigger. "But I have to know, what are you doing all the way out here? Tim said you were on a business trip but you didn't say what for."

Bruce shrugged slightly, hiding back a wince best he could. "A computer parts factory out here needed a few personnel changes, along with a full inspection. I'm nearly done. What about you?"

"Just finished chasing down Sportsmaster and making sure the cops got him back behind bars." A tilt of his head told the man he wasn't fooled. They were too good at reading each other. "After hearing you were conveniently in town, I decided to drop in. Are you feeling alright?"

"Just some minor injuries." A shrewd glare from the guy didn't make him confess to anything more. "I've kept track of your adventures. Getting some closure?"

"Some." Dick eyed him again. "Stitches?"

"Not relevant." Waving it off wouldn't fool him, but he just needed to distract him for a while. Maybe he'd lose interest. "From my count you've uncovered fifty-seven grave sites, four weapons caches, three arms dealers, and taken down four men on the League's wanted list. And you haven't even made it back to Jump yet."

It was his son's turn to shrug. "Well... I keep busy. Not done yet, obviously."

"Still need a haircut."

"I'll get to that." An impish grin flashed on his face. "Eventually. There's just a lot more I have to do before then. Now about those stitches, did you pull them?"

A cold glance from the man was all he received in response. Lucky for them there was a knock on the suite door. Dick smiled sweetly at him, batting his eyes. "Should I answer the question for you or just the door?"

Bruce rolled his eyes, groaning at the lad. The both got to their feet at the same time turning in opposite directions. While he headed to the bedroom and what he needed inside there, Dick took care of the food delivery. "You better be getting the med kit!"

"Just get the damn food." Despite wanting to slap him over the head for his cheeky comments, Bruce couldn't help but to smirk from the boy's banter. He really could read him like a book, and knew exactly what to do to get him to act. And to think it used to only work one way. As soon as he was done finding the medical kit he stashed into his luggage with his uniform, he rejoined his son. Dick was opening one of the pizza boxes on the coffee table, the liter of coke next to the two of them. The man scowled and pointed to the dining table not too far off. "We're eating at the table."

"What?" The young man looked up in surprise, making Bruce frown a little more. This must have been another bad habit he picked up from either Slade or the Titans.

"We have a proper table, we're eating there."

"But-"

"You picked dinner, I'm picking the place. Table, now." Shocked into silence at the order, Dick picked everything back up and joined him at the kitchen table. Satisfied, Bruce laid down the med kit and started unbuttoning his shirt to get to work on his stitches while his son fetched some cups from the minibar. "Imagine what Alfred would say if he saw us eating on the couch."

"Okay, seeing your point now." Setting the glasses down and smirking at the older man, he eyed the healing wounds and nodded. They were well tended to after all, he just refused to rest. "Alfred would have a cow. But hey, at least you're not cooking."

"Hey!" The laughter that followed warmed each of them as they tended wounds and filled bellies, just talking. Not about a case or a crisis, just talking and enjoying each other's company. That night they'd both sleep better than they had in weeks, especially if they Skyped Tim beforehand to ease everyone's worries.

It was just too bad the suite only had one bedroom. One of them was sleeping on the couch. Bruce was in no condition to be anyone's teddy bear that night.


	8. The Chase

Who knew chasing down a guy who made tattoos come to life could be such a hassle! None of the others he had to bring back to jail gave him this much trouble. Course, none of the others' first response was to run. The Tattooed Man wasn't that big of a problem to the League, just a guy trying to make a life for himself.

Still, Renegade had broken him out of prison, so Dick had to get him back. His 'Slade Wilson Break Outs' list was almost complete.

Richards really needed to just turn himself in, but instead he ran. How he managed to get a motorcycle tattoo come to life was beyond him. He was riding it now, and so the two went on a merry old chase through a Washington town, literally littered with alleyways and parks. The cops were having fun chasing them too. Thus far they crashed through three stalls, a party, and about a dozen flowerbeds.

This was getting ridiculous. '_There's gotta be a better way..._'

"_This is the police! Pull over! Turn your motors off!_"

'_There really has to be a better way to do this..._' Two blocks into his chase and the cops were everywhere. Probably thought they were joyriding buddies who didn't care what public damage they did. Boy were they wrong. Normally he'd just tag a tracer on the guy's bike and disappear, but one made of ink made that practically impossible. This royally sucked.

Dick could hear a chopper in the air, making him groan even more. Now this was an official police chase for the ten o'clock news. Bruce was going to love that. '_Have to get off the road..._'

He jerked right, shooting down a narrow passage to lose the cops following him. It was a good thing he got the lay of the land before trying anything. Temporarily stopping in a covered alleyway, he turned on the police scanner in his helmet in order to keep tabs of the chase.

"_Suspect going down second street. 499 in pursuit._"

"_Lost suspect at thirty-fourth._"

"_Suspect spotted at thirty-second. 229 in pursuit._"

"_Suspect headed toward south woods!_"

The young man smirked, revving up his engine and turning out of the crowded alleyways as he listened to the details. He didn't need to be chasing the guy anymore, just make sure he was caught. Quickly he was on the road and taking a shortcut to cut off the perp. Using driving tactics he learned as Robin, he weaved in and out of traffic as if it was nothing. The cops were so distracted by one dangerous cyclist they didn't even have Dick on their radar.

Within minutes he was at the south woods and could hear the patrol cars not too far off. The roar of the tattoo motorcycle was closer, and gaining. As soon as he made it into a clearing, the man would change tattoos and fly off into the night sky. He had to cut him off before that.

Grinning to himself, loving the rush that came with taking out bad guys, he took out a grapple and zeroed in on his target. Quickly he calculated where the man's path would go and shot out a line. Oldest trick in the book and it worked like a charm. Within seconds the Tattooed Man was unconscious, sprawled on the ground, and this construct was dissipating into nothing.

It only took a minute to wrap the guy up and hang him upside down in a tree. The cops had a fun little angry package waiting for them in the woods when they finally caught up. By then Dick was far enough away to watch without being caught in their headlights. Satisfaction filled him. Finally, all those he released were back behind bars.

He watched as the cops processed the scene, some looking around for him. The acrobat grinned, knowing they'd never find him. They couldn't even follow his tracks that late at night and they didn't have the training to find him anyway. He watched a moment longer before putting back on his helmet and taking off into the night.


	9. Titan Echos

It was another grueling day with the Teen Titans. Jump still had its cluster of criminals and supervillains, but things had calmed down in the past two years. After fighting assassins, interdimensional demons, and worldwide organizations of evil, things like petty crooks and expert thieves were cake walks. Mini alien invasions were occasionally a problem but not as much as they used to be.

Still, it was great to come back at the tower, just to rest and to veg.

"Man I miss being on TV," Beast Boy griped, having given up on his acting career at last. Raven and Starfire also had left their earlier seclusion in favor of being heroes again. Well, technically none of them really left, but they took a break from the team anyway. Losing their leader and facing all of that on their own had taken its toll after all. "The only things trying to kill you in Hollywood were the press and brain dead actors."

"So... pretty much everyone there then?" Raven joked in an even tone. Others around them laughed.

Donna, their leader these days, was especially friendly, like their Robin was, but far more patient. She came and went from the Tower to be with her small family, but she did a lot of work with them. Jericho was a pleasant addition too, and the occasional visit with Cyborg made things nice, but with Pantha and Hotspot with them, the tower sometimes felt crowded. Titan's East was getting just like them too. Their roster just kept on growing and changing.

BB glared at his close friend as they made their way into the common room. "Dude, that's just not fa-"

"Robin?!"

Starfire's declaration jerked all their attention onto the young man reading through their computer files in the main room. A damp towel lay on his shoulders as a barrier between his clothes and wet long hair. Seeing him in that state when he looked over told them how long he'd been in the tower. Why hadn't they been informed?

Dick turned around and grinned at them from the console he was working on, getting out of his chair. "Hey guys. Miss me?"

"Robin!" Starfire and Beast Boy launched themselves at him, tackling him into a group hug. The acrobat stiffened for a moment then relaxed, laughing sheepishly at himself. The Tamaranian was especially happy to see him, having not seen him since the previous summer. "When did you arrive? How did you get here?" "Dude! Awesome to see you again! When did you get in town?!"

"Uh guys?" Their visitor slapped both their shoulders weakly. "Can't breathe!"

"Ah... Sorry." Both oddly colored Titans let go of him together, letting him regain his breath once again. "Are you well?"

Again Dick laughed, a little less nervous, then looked at them again. "Physically I'm pretty good."

"And mentally?" Raven and Donna came up to him, holding back their greetings until they knew how he really was.

The guy appreciated it. "Getting there. Just getting closure right now." He smiled warmly at his older friend. "Hey D. How's the hubby?"

That won a laugh from their Amazon. She quickly crossed the room and gave him a strong hug, one he equally returned. "How I've missed you my friend."

"Missed you too Wondy."

"Now don't give me that boy blunder." Jokingly, Donna eased out of his arms and slapped him lightly. Dick laughed in response, fondness in every feature. It made his other friends blink in response. How did they know each other so well? "Or so help me I'll hang you by your pixie boots."

"I haven't worn those in years!" he complained, still grinning. He looked up and down her for a moment, grinning. "See you've traded the sparkly red suit for a night rainbow. New ID?"

"Troia." She gave him a knowing look in return. "And you? What are you calling yourself these days?"

"That..."an impish grin grew on his face, "is a secret. Kinda leaning to Man Wonder though."

"Ah, no."

He shrugged. "Worth a shot. So how is the married life?"

"Good," the Amazon started, then gave him a pointed look. "But we can talk about it later. You're being rude to everyone else. When did you get in?"

"About an hour ago." Their visitor took a step back and looked at everyone else. His eyes rested on Jericho, almost as if he recognized him. Their eyes met for a moment and they seemed to be silently communicating with their eyes before he broke contact and looked back to the others. "Didn't want to bother you while you were out so I just went to my old room for a bit to clean up. Mind if I crash here for a day or two? Few things I want to do before heading back east."

"Do you really have to ask?" Beast Boy jibed, reminding them he was largely responsible for the tower's construction (course they didn't know it at the time).

"You are not staying?" Starfire seemed heartbroken at the idea of him leaving so soon, and Beast Boy was in the same boat.

Dick just shook his head. "I'm not 100% yet guys, and I've got a few more small things to do before I can be cleared for active duty. I'll be coming back," he assured them, "if you'll have me that is."

"Excuse me," Pantha stepped forward, very confused, "but, can someone tell me who this guy is? And how he got into the tower?"

"Security here's top grade," Hotspot stated, not happy either. "How did you-"

"I helped designed the security system," the young man assured them, stepping forward. He offered his hand to the three new(er) comers. "Name's Dick, and don't start jokin' with my name. I used to be known as Robin, the first one."

Instantly the three who didn't really know who he was' jaws dropped. Robin, the boy wonder, the former sidekick to the Batman, first child hero, favorite of the Justice League, Teen Titan founder and first leader, was standing before them with a hand out stretched. Pantha took his hand eagerly and shook it, soon followed by Hotspot. "Ah... It's a pleasure... I'm-"

"Pantha, I know." He released the Hotspot's hand and looked over to Jericho, his hand outstretched. "Hotspot and Jericho too. I've read all about you guys back in Gotham."

As the mute shook the new comer's hand, Hotspot gave him an inquisitive look. "I thought you were MIA?"

"More like a POW." Again he gave the blond before him an interesting look, analyzing him but not looking into his eyes for very long. A bit of pity crossed both their faces for each other but it was brushed aside as he turned back to them to explain. "I was... kinda blackmailed into working for a criminal for about four years. Got out of it last year and been in recovery since."

"Blackmailed?" The two jolted back a moment in shock but Dick held up his hand to silence them.

"Lives were at stake, that's all. Anyway, it's in the past now and the man's not coming back to finish the job. I'm just passing through town and need a place to crash until I figure the rest out." He looked around them for a moment as the two remained flabbergasted. "See Cyborg isn't around. Is he-"

"He's helping the League with their teleporters," Donna informed him. "Which you would know if you used your communicator."

"Fraid I kinda broke mine..." A sheepish grin grew on his face. "Can I get a new one?"

* * *

As soon as Dick could get away from the crowd of friends, he did, but not because he didn't want to be around them. He just had something else he had to do. The newer members watched and listened to their jokes and escapades, filling in the blanks when they could. If they could. One had drifted off from the crowd for obvious reasons, or 'to get some air'. And now Dick was following suit.

He watched Jericho tune his guitar on the roof for a minute before making his presence known. "You know, I don't blame you for what happened."

The mute stiffened then looked over to the acrobat in trepidation. He gave him a weak smile to encourage him. "You, or your brother, or your mom, or anyone else. Just Slade. You guys weren't part of his life when it all happened. So you don't have to be awkward with me."

Jericho stared at him for a moment, then signed rapidly. "_You know who I am?"_

"Yep." A slight smirk appeared on his face. "Your dad had a picture of all of you back when things were good. He'd take it out when he thought I wasn't looking. The handful of times we met up with Wintergreen I asked him about you guys. Told me about what happened to... you. You and your brother.

"I'm really sorry about your loss." His gaze fell for a moment in sympathy. "He deserved better."

Jericho shook his head slowly, signing once again. "_Grant dug his own grave. Father just set a standard. I think his death threw him over the edge._"

"That's for sure." Dick looked at the horizon, remembering how the man was. "Wintergreen told me about how he once saved his life, about how he was a good man once. Then Grant died and everything changed."

He fell silent for a minute, not sure what else to say. He wanted to reassure the young, budding hero that he was blameless for what happened and not to think he'd be judged because of the sins of his father. It was just difficult thinking of how.

Eventually Jericho's hands moved again. "_Did... How did he hurt you?_"

The acrobat looked up and away for a moment to remember and form the words right. "Mental, emotional, physical... Mostly he messed with my mind to try and make me obedient to him. I was an emotional wreck. ... It nearly worked."

Silence again, and there was nothing to fill it. Not really much else to say either. Dick straightened himself and sighed. "Look, point of the matter... I don't blame you. I want to get to know you as yourself and not from others. I don't want us to be awkward around the others and I don't want you feeling guilty for something out of your control. Slade's in prison now, and he can't come after me anymore. He can't hold anything over you, and I won't either. So..." He offered a hand out to him. "Friends? Allies?"

The mute looked at his hand for a moment in surprise, then smiled as he took it. Joseph Wilson nodded in agreement as they shook. With his free hand, he signed, "_I look forward to working with you in the future._"

"Likewise. Just one thing." A slight joking smirk crossed his face. "I already know about your powers. Unless I say otherwise, stay out of me. Alright?"

Jericho shook with a silent laugh. Seeing him smile like that made Dick wish he could have heard the teen's voice. He signed an 'OK', making the deal final. Dick grinned and put his hands in his pockets. "Sweet. The others are thinking of pizza later. Care to join us?"


	10. Crushed

My apologies to the RobStar fans. This had to be done.

* * *

Halfway through the night, Starfire found he could not sleep. What with her Robin coming back and him actually getting better... She could still remember how he looked at her when he shot at her on top of Wayne Enterprises all those years ago. He didn't want to do it but to save them he'd do anything. His kindness and loyalty was something she could never forget.

Her heart ached for him, even then. He was the first boy she kissed on Earth, and his patience when teacher her Earth customs was one thing she greatly admired. Him being so far away killed her inside, and knowing he was in pain all those years hurt even more. The worst part of all those years though was when he attacked her the previous summer. Course she had tried to get information rather gruffly from the third Robin, but he still attacked her. They both apologized for their actions over the intercom, but it still wasn't enough.

She missed him. More than anything she missed him. Her sweet Robin.

And now he was so close, but still far off.

Unable to sleep, Star wandered the halls of the tower, trying to find a way to settle her thoughts and emotions. She must have been wandering for an hour before she heard it, the 'has!' and 'hiyas!'. Something was being hit repeatedly in the gym, and those particular grunts were not heard in the tower in years. Her chest filling with warmth, she flew over to the gym door and watched.

Dick was working up quite a sweat, hitting the practice dummies over and over again. Seeing his eyes this time as he worked, she knew he was more than just practicing. Every blow was to an enemy, one she couldn't see. His determination to defeat whatever he was fighting inside him shown through his every motion. Every graceful, beautiful motion.

Oh how she missed her good friend.

Part of the practice dummy broke off after one blow, knocking the young man out of his frazzled mental state. He leaned heavily on the dummy for a moment, breathing hard. It was not clear how long he had been there practicing, but it was long enough for him to be soaked in his own liquids. His tank top she was sure she saw him in when he said good night to everyone, dripped on the floor. In all the time she knew him as Robin, she never saw him like this. Even when he was searching for Slade, he was not like this.

"It's okay to come in Star," Dick murmured loud enough for her to hear. He looked at her from the side and smirked a little. There was no joy in his smile, just a painful acceptance. "I'm not going to attack you."

"Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude." As she stepped closer, she heard him chuckle. "What is it you find funny Robin?"

"Nothing really," he admitted. "Just that... you really haven't changed much." The young man shook his head. "Nearly six years on Earth and you still haven't mastered contractions."

"Has it really been that long?" She cocked her head to the side, wondering like she always had. "It seems more time has passed."

"Nope, only six years." He grabbed a towel not too far off and started wiping himself down. After a few seconds seeing he was getting know where with his dripping shirt, he pulled it off and tossed it to the side. He continued to talk as he dried off. "I remember it as if it were yesterday. Only been in Jump two weeks when you came crash-"

Starfire gasped loudly when she saw his bare back, tears springing to her eyes. In a flash he turned to her. "What? What's wrong?"

"Your back!" He blinked while she explained best she could. "Your back is crying out in pain! Slade! He must have-"

"Oh. The scars." Hastily Dick looked away, going back to drying himself off. "They're nothing."

"Nothing?!" Instantly she was at his side, hands gently hovering over the marks on his body. The brand was especially worrisome. "You call these nothing?!"

"Memories I'd sooner forget," he reiterated. "Pretty soon actually. California has some of the best plastic surgeons in the country. I have an appointment tomorrow to get rid of some of them."

"How can you call these nothing?" Horror filled her as she thought of how these scars were made. "Robin, he hurt you! He-"

"Can we please move past it already?" He snapped a glare at the princess, determined to get it through her head. "Yes he hurt me. Yes I have scars and burns and a lot of healed injuries. But if I dwell on it forever, they'll never heal. I want to get better Star, and drudging up the past is no way to move forward. I've dealt with this for a long time, and really, I'm tired of people thinking I'm fragile. I'm not. I can take it, and I have."

"I apologize-" She started, only to get cut off.

"And that's another thing. Stop apologizing for something out of your control!" Frustration blared from his features, driving the point home. "I blamed myself for years! It was the blame game that made it hard for me to heal last time you saw me. Guilt, blame, it's not going to help. It doesn't change what happened and only makes everyone depressed.

"Just..." his face softened as he watched hers, becoming more apologetic by the moment. "Star... I know you're concerned. I know you care. I just want everyone to let it go already. Everything's going to be fine from now on. Scars are part of the business. And I've been in it since I was a kid. From my count, over half of mine came from someone else. And I'll continue to get them in the future

"So stop worrying about them. I've survived. That's all that matters."

Stunned speechless, Starfire watched as he finished drying himself off and hang his towel over his shoulders. His hair was a mess, but she did not mind its length. It was how he held himself that bothered her. He was a different person than the Robin she knew all those years ago. The Robin she knew would have dwelt in the past, been angry about the mission not being done, and do everything he could to reassure her after blowing up he was not losing his mind. He had changed so much...

"I see..." Was all she could say in reply, her shoulders sagging. "I will try."

Dick watched her for a moment, downcast, and sighed heavily, rubbing his neck. "Look... Star, I didn't mean to blow up at you. I just... It just gets a little frustrating, that's all. I want to move on, and it's hard to when everyone else dwells in the past. I know it'd be easier if I was here while recovering, but I had a lot of family issues to work out first and... I needed to be there. I've been traveling around the country the past couple months ironing out the rest of my problems. And I guess..."

He sighed again and sat down on one of the weight machines. "Starfire, we need to talk."

She watched him wordlessly for a minute, then sat in the air at his level. "If you insist. What is it we need to talk about?"

The acrobat blinked at her for a second then raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You can't sense the elephant in the room when we're alone?" She shook her head, not understanding all of Earth's metaphors still. He sighed and tried to explain. "There's... there are issues... subjects between us that need to be taken care of."

"Such as?" Her heart beat a little faster as he spoke. Part of her knew what he was trying to say while the rest was just waiting for him to say it.

So he did. "Like why I hesitated to shoot you five years ago during that heist." He eyed her nervously for a second then continued. "Back then... five years ago I had a bit of a crush on you. I liked you, and more than as a friend."

"You did?" Hope sprang up in her chest as he spoke, radiating out of her.

"Yeah. And..." Dick tried to look her in the eye. "I had the impression you liked me that way too." Starfire's smile started to beam at him. Yes, she felt the same. Still did. Seeing her expression he looked away. "Maybe if things had been different we could have worked out back then."

"Robin..." She started, placing a hand on his. "Dick... I feel the same."

"But that the thing Star," he continued, looking at their hands. "It didn't. It was five years ago. I've changed. And despite appearances, you've changed too."

"No. No I have not changed," she persisted, not liking where things were going. Could not things be the same between them? "We can-"

"We can't pick up where we left off Starfire." He looked up at her sadly. "I don't have the same feelings now that I did back then."

A heavy silence hung between them, one the Tamaranian was scared to break. A painful ache entered her chest, one she had not felt so strongly since that night so many years ago. What was he saying? A minute later he continued.

"I don't know how it is with your people, but with humans, if two people don't stay in contact and keep feeding the feelings they have for each other, it dwindles and dies. Old friends and family feelings don't wane near as much as anything romantic so we don't worry too much about those bonds. And between you and me...

"I still like you Star, just not romantically like I used to."

Starfire stared at the young man, tears threatening to come out. Her chest constricted painfully, feeling as if her insides were being crushed. Was this why humans called such beginnings of love crushes? Because they ended painfully? "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I want to start over." He looked her in the eye as he spoke, conveying his feelings best he could. "I need to start over. Whether or not we fall in love shouldn't be dependent on our memories when we were kids. I've got a very good friend in Gotham I crushed on for years as a kid and our relationship isn't the same as it was back then."

"What?" There was someone else?

"When I came to Jump, I gave up on that romantic possibility as well. She didn't take me seriously back then anyway." He rolled her eyes briefly at the memory. Seeing that calmed down her jealousy a bit. "But we stayed friends. Even if we don't see eye to eye on things, we're still very good friends.

"Star, what I mean to say is..." He hesitated, as if scared of the consequences. "I want us to stay friends, get reacquainted, and when I return to the Titans, we can see where things go from there. A fresh start. So can you stop thinking of me as Robin? And just call me Dick?"

Looking into his eyes and the plea behind them, Starfire could not bring herself to say no. She could not say yes either. Tamaranians never fell out of love. She felt a connection to Dick she never felt with anyone else, and she had relationships during his absence. None quite like the friendship she had with him though. Never the same.

Still he needed this. Who as she to deny him? Not trusting her voice, she nodded, squeezing his hand slightly. Dick smiled graciously. "Thanks Star. This really means a lot to me."

"And you mean a lot to me... and everyone."

They sat in silence for a minute, Starfire on the ground now looking at their hands while Dick continued to watch her face. He almost regretted having this chat, but it was necessary. They both knew it. Eventually he slid his hands away and stood up, fetching his shirt and a water bottle. "I need to hit the showers then get some sleep. See you in the morning, alright Star?"

Numbly she nodded, eyes still on the ground. She wound need time to heal, they both knew it. With her attention on the floor, she barely heard him wish her a good night and walk way. Alone in the gym, all she had now were her thoughts and her vanquished dreams. Dreams she held onto for five years.

Her Robin was gone. Long long gone. All she could do now was mourn the loss of her first true love as someone else walked away.


	11. A letter

"Mail!"

The guard's call didn't mean a thing to the high security inmate. His trail was long over and Interpol had him so tightly locked away, it'd take a while to get out. With any luck he'd be gone before the Suicide Squad recruited him. That was all he was hoping for; to be out before being constrained to duty.

It wasn't like his ex-wife or son would mail him anything.

But when a small manila envelope slid through the slot into his room, he blinked. Scowling, the one-eyed assassin set his book aside and picked up the flimsy package. No hard edges at all. No return address. It looked more like an internal carrier letter than something from the outside. Suspicions grew within him by the second. He wouldn't put it beyond Batman to try and torment him while imprisoned for the loss of his former partner.

Well let him try.

With little hesitation, he peeled open the envelope and let its contents fall onto his bed. A long thick lock of black hair, neatly tied together in an orange string, slid out with a note. His eyes widened in surprise as he stared at the two objects. Why were these things sent to him?

His curiosity got the better of his caution as he picked up the note and started to read.

_Hey there Slade! How's the slammer! =D_

_Thought you might want this. After all, you took four years of my life away, you deserve a souvenir. Seriously, I can't believe you let me look like a girl. What a horrible haircut. B[ Since it's cut and baked, it won't be useful for finding out who I am, or anyone else for that matter. Batman's been hiding my DNA since I was twelve so there. ;P_

_I read from the trial transcripts that Renegade was dead. Do you mourn him? Oh... so sad... XP Well Bats was telling the truth. Renegade is dead. Even if you get out, I'm never listening to you again. So all those years of conditioning, gone. Bye-bye! Sucks to be you. Your teaching skills just suck._

_Well not completely. I did learn a lot of tricks from you, and a lot of handy skills. I'll be sure to use them for a good cause now. You may have killed off the first Robin, but you didn't kill me, and I made that role. Guess it's time to make a new one._

_Oh, just so you know, I've put back all those people you made me break out of prison. Sent them your love too. Also, those safe houses and weapons caches you had? They're in FBI custody now. And the IRS are having fun with your hidden accounts. Oh! And I also met your son Joey. Nice guy. Nicer Titan. And the way he plays guitar? Amazing._

_Anyway, just sending you this so you can remember who it is that beat you in the end. And a little warning. You come after me or anyone I care about, and I'll kick your ass back into prison. If you're lucky, someone else will be there to stop me from losing control and killing you. If you step foot in Gotham, I can guarantee you won't make it out of there in one piece._

_Have fun in prison! And I do hope you get a friend while in prison. I don't know how Interpol does things with their prisoners, but I'm certain you'll have quite a few good stories when you get out._

_With warm regards, that kid you trapped and manipulated for four years formerly known as Robin._

_Die you one-eyed bastard._

Slade nearly gaped at the letter, then smirked. There was no way his former apprentice could have died that night. Batman lied in court, but also told the truth. His apprentice was gone, but not dead. He was stronger than that. Much stronger.

Reading the note again, he shook his head. "Well done apprentice. Well done."


	12. Telling Oracle

Barbara Gordon rubbed her eyes, setting her glasses to the side for a minute. Starting at all those screens was a headache. Sure she knew more about Gotham and the criminal underworld than most this way, but it really was no wonder why her eyes were deteriorating. Add to it the Bat's demands at odd hours of the night and really it was obvious why she snapped at people sometimes. Any one working with that guy for as long as she had would actually. It was a miracle Alfred and Dick were as positive as they were.

Eyes refreshed, she settled herself back to her job as Oracle. It was mostly a satisfying job, and she did get paid for her services, but she really missed going out and swinging from rooftops. The wind in her face, sneaking around in the shadows, knocking the bad guys down flat in the gutter, she missed it. If she could walk again, she'd be Batgirl again in a heartbeat. One thing she missed most of all though was playing rooftop tag with her favorite boy wonder.

Sighing slightly, she looked over to the Batman plushie her dad gave her for Christmas last year, debating exactly how far it would fly. She could almost swear she saw something on her security cameras that moved like the circus brat. If it wasn't the guy who took off two months ago, she'd know pretty soon. One hand slipped under her desk for a batarang while the other kept typing to get through the footage she needed for a drug bust the duo were doing that night. Just because danger could be coming didn't mean she could be lazy with her job.

Minutes passed and she kept going, weapon to the side of her keyboard now as she hacked away. Falcone was being a real pain in the rear lately and she was nailing him down with financials as the boys picked up some physical evidence. She turned on her mike as she reported what she saw on the screens to them. "You've got a dozen men inside, fifteen outside. Two drivers. No major players. Their security system's pretty basic, an RD24 model. Three cameras, one inside and the rest covering the entrances. I'll check for more chatter on my end on their ops."

"_Understood_." Batman cut off communications like always, making her want to chuck the doll for that reason alone.

"You're welcome! Sheesh... You'd think he'd learn how to say a simple thank you by now."

"I think it's his way of rebelling. Alfred was always a stickler on being polite to everyone."

One hand flew to the batarang on instinct while her heart leapt in her chest. Jerking around, she spotted the source of the voice to see if it was friend or foe. Instead she saw an unfamiliar black and blue uniform and chucked the weapon for good measure. The new comer leapt to the side gracefully, surprise on his face. "Watch it Babs! These are new!"

Barbara just stared at the young man, trying to take this in better. Before her was a very handsome and fit young man in tights. Floppy short black hair fell slightly in front of his near bat-shaped domino mask, making his facial features even more distinct. He mostly wore black but a thick blue V laid on his chest and back, connecting at the shoulders with blue stripes running down his arms and even covering two fingers on each glove. He had gantlets that followed the pattern too, and they had pockets in them. He didn't appear to have a belt, but two eskrima sticks like she had attached to her wheelchair were on his back. The cuffs of his boots also had pockets, and she was certain there were other hidey-holes on his person.

Despite not recognizing the outfit, she couldn't help but feel she knew this guy from somewhere. "... Dick?"

"Now that's not so nice..." He pouted childishly at her. "I come back from my trip to show you what I've done and the first thing you do is throw things and call me names."

"Dick, is that you or not?" Humor dropped from her voice, not in the mood for games. She needed sleep rather badly.

Sighing slightly, the new costumed man in her life took off his mask and looked her in the eye. As soon as they connected, both of them grinned. It was Dick. "It's a me Babs. I just thought you'd want to see me and my new digs first."

He grinned impishly as he twirled around like a kid showing off their new clothes for friends. "You like?"

"Like?" She looked up and down him for a moment, caught somewhere between frustration and amusement. This was so Dick. Frustrating her and making her laugh... "You take off for two months with minimal contact with anyone and the first thing you do is ask whether or not I like your new outfit?"

"If it makes you feel better, you're the first one to see it. Or me." The acrobat gave her his usual charming smile. "You're the first stop I've made since coming back."

The hacker covered her face with one hand, trying to stop herself from laughing. This sweet idiotic circus brat... His hand gently landed on her shoulder. "Is... is everything alright? Did I do something wrong? Does it really look that bad?"

Babs slapped him playfully in the stomach, grinning. "Cut it out boy wonder! You're killing me here!" An impish grin grew on her face. "You look way too good in those tights."

"Ya think?"

"Get over here." Quickly she pulled him into a strong hug, overjoyed she was his first stop. And seeing this piece of meat dressed all pretty just for her... "I missed you, ya big lug."

"Missed you too Barb." Dick sniffed her hair as they hugged then hmmed. "New shampoo?"

"And conditioner." They let go momentarily so she could look at him again. She really couldn't get enough of him in that outfit. "You got rid of that mullet finally."

"It wasn't a mullet," he stated evenly, finding a seat on a nearby stool. "It was just five years of forgetting to get it cut."

"And then refusing to get rid of it every time we offered to chop it off." She gave him a long look over that. Many times in the past year they talked about him getting a haircut. He really looked too much like a girl. "You didn't have to go cross country to get rid of that rag."

"I did if I wanted to get rid of that brand at the same time." He gave her a knowing smile as he flexed one shoulder. "That doctor you found was really good."

"Ought to with how often he gets to work on movie stars and models." Looking at his hair again, she smiled. He really looked good like this. Very sexy. Who knew that goofy kid in pixie boots would grow up into such a hunk wonder? The tights were helping too. "You look... amazing."

"You think so?" She nodded, making him blush slightly. "Thanks. You look pretty good too.

"Just 'pretty good'?"

"Would you prefer 'like a goddess'?"

"I might." Settling back in her chair to admire the view, Barbara cocked her head. "So, you're back."

"Yep."

"Got any plans now that you're back? And... in the game?"

Dick grinned. "Some. One of which is a campout. I'd ask you to join, but it's doubling as survival training, with the dynamic duo."

"Oh dear..." She grinned evilly. "Need some rations? With Bruce cooking-"

"One thing he doesn't screw up is survival cooking," he stated flatly. "It never tastes good, but at least we won't starve." That won a laugh out of her, glad there was something domestic the man could do right. "That being said, if you'd like to donate to our junk food fund, it'd be greatly appreciated."

"Maybe after we get one Richard Grayson back in the US." She turned her chair over to the computers once again. "Making a travel log for you has been a blast ya know. Going back six years even more so. Your passport has a lot more stamps than it used to."

"So long as it works," he shrugged. "What else ya been up to?"

"Oh, the usual. IDing bad guys, making sure convictions stick, surveillance, making covers for everyone, same old same old. Last week I took down a virus the Calculator made. Decent one too."

"Any dates?"

She blinked and looked up at him in surprise. The former boy wonder's eyes weren't anywhere near her or focusing on the screens. That question sure was out of the blue. "Are you asking?"

"Just curious..." His eyes settled on Batman and Robin beating up some guys at the pier. "I mean, I did promise you a night on the town as soon as I was back in town, 100% officially."

Barbara eyed him for a moment in silence. "And when will that be?"

"In two days." His eyes didn't meet hers as he continued. "I just want to know if there will be any jealous boyfriends I have to watch my back for."

A smirk grew on the woman's face. "Boyfriends no. Dads with guns? You bet. I think he still has the one with your name on it."

"Eee..." The young man grimaced in memory, making her grin. The one time they actually did go out as themselves, Jim Gordon had shown Dick his collection of bullets with the names of every boy he knew of going out with his daughter's engraved on them. It was his scare tactic, next to pulling out their criminal record if they had one. Cop dads were some of the worst for teenage daughters. "You'd think he'd get rid of that by now."

"Yeah right. So..." She gave him a long look, tilting her head as she smiled wantingly at him. Man he was hot. "I get to pick where we go right?"

His head jerked around and he grinned excitedly. Damn. He still had that crush on her. And he was even cuter now than before! "You bet! This time you pick. Next time, I'll come up with something."

"Are you sure there will be a next time?" she teased.

And he teased back. "Oh there will. You can count on that."

Their smiles only grew wider as they looked at each other. Eventually she turned away, back to her work. "We'll see about that hunk wonder."

"HUNK wonder?"

"Don't let it get to your head pixie boots." Rapidly she went back to typing, trying to figure out what else to say. "So, got a new name with the costume?"

"Nightwing."

She blinked and looked back to him in surprise. "Nightwing?"

"Uh huh." A pleased smile rested on his lips. "I figure, once a bird, always a bird. And since I'm a creature of the night..." He shrugged, trying to pass it off as that. But Barbara knew better. She raised an eyebrow, silently telling him to go on, and this time with the truth. Eventually he gave in. "I read a legend in that book Superman gave me about a guy on Krypton who was kinda like Batman. His name translated into Nightwing. I just thought..."

"You'd honor both of them?" He shrugged and nodded. Doubts were starting to appear on his face so she decided to get rid of them. "Cool. Nightwing. It suits you." A grin grew on her face as she looked back to the computer screens. The initial investigation of Falcone's wares had turned into a fight. And it wasn't going all that well. "Can't wait to see how Bats takes the news."

"Neither can I." He looked to the screen again and sighed. "Think they need backup?"

"Probably." She took out a comlink from a drawer and passed it back to him without thinking twice.

A pout appeared on his face as he put the mask back on and the link in his ear. "And here I was hoping to catch some Zees here before seeing good old dad."

"FYI, the papers are finalized," she informed him as he turned to the windows to leave. "All that's left is the public announcement."

"Oh joy. The press. Hey," Nightwing looked back for a moment as he opened the panes up to leave, "wanna be my plus one at Superman's wedding?"

"Maybe," Oracle joked, grinning at him, "if you manage to fly back here with breakfast later."

"You're on beautiful."


	13. Knight's Rescue

Hanging from steel ropes from the ceiling, not good. Robin looked to the heavens for a moment, berating himself mentally for getting caught so easily. Two guys flanked him while he was separated from Batman for a minute and now they were caught. After all, one thing the dark knight wouldn't do was risk his partner's life. Well, risk it with a knife to his throat that is.

"Bigger than we thought," he murmured to his mentor hanging next to him. He received a grunt in response. Neither of them were comfortable, and to make matters worse it was a school night. Some nights it just didn't pay to be a crime fighter. "Any ideas?"

"Some."

The young bird rolled his eyes at the A-typical answer he received. The thugs below them were arguing over what to do with them next. Quite a few of their friends were sporting nasty bruises and a few had broken bones and dislocated joints. Three of them were still out cold. As soon as the bad guys were completely distracted with each other, they could start a real escape. Unfortunately one guy with a sniper rifle was keeping a close eye on them.

Looking around Robin prayed they got out of this soon. He was losing feeling in his hands and his shoulders ached like crazy. Plus he had a group project to help with the next day and one of his group members was getting suspicious of his comings and goings. He had to get out of there soon, never mind the possibility of death, is normal life was in jeopardy!

Okay, he needed to get a few priorities straight if his biggest concern right then wasn't the likelihood of getting shot in the next few minutes. As his numb fingers tried to get a hold of the rope keeping him captive, something flitted across a few windows. He didn't really think anything of it until he saw Batman's lips twitch slightly. That was a tell Dick told him about, one saying something was up.

The teen scowled for a moment and waited, still grabbing the rope above him to try and get rid of the numb feeling in his hands. More arguing went off below them, none of it useful for their investigation. Couldn't they argue about the shipment or about their boss instead of what they should do about them? Or maybe they could talk about the French Revolution. That'd be useful.

An eerie cackle echoed above them softly, jerking over the sniper's attention if nothing else. The guy had to be superstitious. His eyes jerked around wildly as the laughter became louder, echoing all around him. Soon his buddies weren't arguing so much as the creepy laugh surrounded them, giving them the willies. Their attentions divided, Robin started to swing a little; Batman did the same.

"What's going on?!" "Who's there?!" "Show yourself bastard!"

"Um... no."

Smoke pellets fell all around them, covering the men in opaque vapors. Amidst their coughing, the dynamic duo flipped onto the ropes to untie themselves. As they started working on the ropes, round razor disks flew at the knots, cutting them enough to loosen their hold without dropping them painfully to the floor. At the same time they could hear someone landing in the midst of the thugs and fighting them head on. And winning.

Batman dropped to the floor and joined the fray just seconds before Robin did, each using their techniques of choice. The bird mostly weaved between men until he could reach his belt and grab his bo staff. He rejoined the battle, whacking heads and knocking guns away. In the middle of it all, he called out to his mentor and tossed him his belt. Momentarily distracted, some goon tried to get the drop on him, only for Robin to see an eskrima stick hit him across the head. For a brief moment he could see the person helping them out, then he disappeared back into the fray. Was that who he thought it was?

The fight was over before the smoke even cleared, with the good guys as the victors. Robin and Batman looked over to the last standing body, kicking a large thug out before putting his weapons on his back. An impish grin turned to them as they took in the sight of him.

"Hey bossman! Missed me?"

'_Dick?_' Robin's jaw dropped in silence as he tried to figure out what to say next. No names in the field, but he didn't give him any code names he'd be using last time they talked. He had helped him get in contact with suppliers to make a new crime fighting identity, but that was all.

"You're late." Batman folded his arms, acting all authoritative and grumpy, but a slight note of amusement was in his voice. "You were supposed to be back last week."

"I blame traffic, pizza, and surgery taking longer than I anticipated." A smirk grew on the vigilante's face. "By the way, your tracer's off."

"Nice haircut." Robin stepped forward to talk to the older bird only to be cut off by an order.

"Cuff the men first, socialize later." Swiftly the Bat went to work, lining up the prisoners as he went. The two protégés looked at each other and shrugged before taking out some zip ties and following suit.

"Has he had his coffee yet?" the young man joked to the teen wonder.

"Don't think so." He klonked one man out again as he started to stir during his cuffing. "I think A cut him off because he hasn't slept in five days, at all."

"Geh..." His brother cringed in sympathy. "That sucks. Yeah, time to cut out the caffeine."

"Do you mind?" Batman growled not too far off.

"Of course I do! I remember how bad you were with insomnia." The older bird shook his head at the memory. "He was high on Scarecrow Gas ya see and-"

"Enough." Their mentor's sharp retort ended that story, for now. The acrobat made a face at him, forcing the youngest to choke on a laugh. The Bat scowled in return to cut off their silent mockery of him.

After they nearly had all the men bound up, Robin spoke up again. "So... new outfit. Does it come with a name?"

"Nightwing."

From the corner of his eye, the teen could see Batman stiffen momentarily. His former partner just grinned impishly at them both while Robin tried to recall where he heard the named before. "Isn't that..."

"Bullock's on route." The dark knight turned to both boys and inclined his head to the doors. "Call it a night and head home."

"Bet you're gonna sneak some caffeine under A's nose aren't cha?" That earned him a scowl, which was returned by a knowing grin. "Can't sneak anything past me old man. Anyway, I need to pick up my bike cross town and some breakfast for Oracle. You're driving him home this time. Meet you back at base?"

Robin covered his mouth to stop from snickering. Nightwing had neatly walked around every one of Batman's orders and plans. The detective wasn't getting out of some sleep that night. Turning towards the exit he grunted a reply. "Don't be late."

"Don't worry! I'll be there in time to tuck you both in." His joking, sickening sweet smile was hard to take seriously. Robin turned a bit pink at the comment but followed Batman out of the building. When he reached the door he heard some murmuring and a kick. Glancing back, he could see the older bird giving the criminal next to him a cruel smirk. "Yeah, and if I can make them get to bed, what do you think I can make you do, hm?"


	14. Home to Roost

Nightwing pulled into the carport of the Batcave without a single hitch. Honestly he expected a battle with the computer system controlling the doors but there wasn't even a delay in each opening. Everyone seemed to anticipate his arrival. Either security was really lax at the entrance he used or Oracle already had his signal in the system so he was allowed easy access. Knowing Bruce, it was option two.

Pulling off his helmet, the vigilante looked around the cave. Two months away and it hadn't really changed. Well there was a timer for a bomb in one container but that was nothing. Small souvenirs like that weren't really anything to talk about. Man he missed the oversized theme trophies the early crazies did when he was a kid. Those were fun.

"Dick!"

He turned reflexively to his name just in time to see Tim running towards him. Even though they saw each other just half an hour ago, it still felt like an age. After all, it was Nightwing and Robin's first meeting, not Dick Grayson and Tim Drake's reunion. They weren't allowed to really be familiar in public while in costume anyway. Stupid rules...

Before the kid could collide with him on his bike, he slid off and met him part way, yanking him into a hug. "Timmy! Great to see ya!"

"Good to see you too!" The teen eagerly returned his hug, a surefire sign of how tired he really was. He was always cuddlier when exhausted. Grinning up at him, he added, "Welcome back."

"It's good to be back." He ruffled the teen's hair a little before turning back to his bike to grab his packs. "Cause I totally ran out of clean laundry."

"I bet you have Master Richard." Both boys looked up to where Alfred was waiting for them patiently. An ever so slight smile appeared on his lips as he looked warmly upon them. "Did you remember to eat dinner before coming home?"

"Sure did. Though I'll never say no to your cooking." He passed his bags to Tim before leaping up to greet his favorite butler. Not letting him have time for objections, Dick wrapped his arms around the gentleman and gave him a strong hug. "Man I've missed you."

"And I you Master Richard." The old man returned the embrace for a minute then let go to help their smallest with the bags. "This house has been mighty quiet without you. I do hope you are not wearing that new uniform upstairs mind you."

Dick looked down at his Nightwing costume peeking out from under his leather jacket. It had a similar design to the uniform (he'd have to hide it until his new persona became well enough known for fans) but was loose in comparison. Jeans were over his tights during the ride home and the only reason he didn't bother to take off his mask was because of the helmet. Shrugging, he gave in as he peeled off his mask. "I'll change in a minute. Bruce putting away his toys or working on his files?"

"Both I'm afraid." Alfred sighed heavily in frustration. "I hoped you would be able to talk some sense into him. He's anticipated your return all week."

"Yeah..." He cringed internally as he acknowledged this. "Really sorry about being late."

"You told them when you'd be back?" Tim's slightly hurt whine made him cringe again. He wasn't in the loop this time.

"A rough estimate. Bruce hates surprises." The acrobat gave a half shrug as an apology. "A good mystery yes, but not a surprise."

"Why didn't you tell me?" the teen pouted. The three of them crossed the cave floor towards the lockers. Though Tim was dressed for bed, Dick still had a wardrobe change to do. Plus he smelled.

"Didn't want to get your hopes up in case I was late. Besides," an impish grin grew on his face, "you like surprises. Check out the back pocket."

In an instant the kid went from surprised to searching the pack's last pocket. Out came three Mars Bars and a book he'd been trying to find for a while. "Sweet! Mairelon the Magician!"

"You were right. Wreede's pretty good."

"Alfred you have to read this!" He presented the softback book to the butler excitedly. "It has magicians in 19th century London, a many leveled mystery, and it's hysterical!"

"Indeed I shall," the old man conceded. Then he gave them both the evil eye, taking both the pack and the book away from them. The candy bars were barely rescued from him, stuffed in Dick's jacket pockets before the shrewd old man could confiscate them. "But, not until after each of you have a full night's rest. To bed with you Master Timothy."

"But-"

"Bed." A glare met the boy's pout. Seeing him act so childishly when normally he was far more mature than Dick was a sure sign of exhaustion. Yeah, it was time for this robin to roost. "You and Master Richard can talk more later."

"Fine..." He looked briefly over to Dick before going upstairs. "Save me one of those will you?"

"Naturally. Good night Timmy! Say high to Mystery Dog for me!"

"His name's Faramir!" This won him a laugh while Tim rolled his eyes. "Dork. Good night Alfred."

"Sleep well Master Timothy." As the teen left them, the butler turned on the young man. "Half an hour and I expect both of you to be in your beds. Am I clear?"

"Crystal."

He was given the once-over and a raised eyebrow as he started towards where Bruce was hiding near the armory. "Are you in need of medical attention?"

"Not at the moment." Dick smirked slightly, turning and walking backwards to continue talking with him. "But you never know what'll happen in the next twenty minutes."

"Indeed." Alfred looked over him one last time then smiled. "It is good to have you back Master Richard."

"Good to be back. G'night." He gave the old man a salute so he could leave and take care of his next duty. As the first born, he sometimes had the responsibility of talking sense into the stubborn mule who led them into battle. Bruce was updating his files using an audio feed rather than typing so he could restock his belt at the same time. Letting him talk for a minute, Dick slipped to the lockers and pulled out a pajama set to change into while he spoke to him. "So, Babs said you were taking down Falcone again."

Bruce nodded and finished up his sentence before setting aside his gear. The last bit of the report was nearly complete. So the acrobat spoke again. "Didn't think you'd have that much trouble with him considering how often we took his thugs down back in the day."

This time the man didn't respond, just kept going. He did pass over his utility belt to him though, silently commanding he put it away so they could get more done faster. Dick obeyed as he pulled his shirt on, having already swapped pants before leaving the lockers. "Seriously, you'd think the mob lords would have learned by now not to deal in Gotham. Falcone, Marroni, Thorne, all those guys, they're just keep getting stupider and stupider. And you know you can't cure stupid.

"Anywho, I was wondering if your usual table at Marie's is still there. I was thinking of abducting a princess from her tower and treating her to brunch later. She liked the place last time and-"

"After Dick Grayson's officially in town."

"Ah! So you are listening!" Dick grinned impishly at him as the man turned to look at him. Bruce took off the mic, raising an amused eyebrow. "And here I was beginning to think you had gone deaf from all those explosions."

"The cowl muffles the vibrations to prevent that." He looked up and down him again. "You look well."

"Better than you." Dick eyed the bags growing under his eyes. "When was the last time you slept?"

"Does it matter?" The man shut down his computer then arched his back to get out some kinks.

"It matters to Alfred." He gave him a weary look. "And frankly it should matter to you. Staying up for days without rest is really bad for your health."

"So is pretty much everything else we do." Slowly he stood up and faced the young man, debating something. The ever slight twitch in his brow told his first partner that much. "Get everything you needed to do done?"

"Pretty much." A warm, satisfied smile graced his lips. "My conscience is settled at least."

"Think you can put it all behind you now?" It was a simple question but it carried a lot of weight. For a moment Dick thought it over. Could he? Five years of his life was consumed because of one man. One dangerous man. Four of them were in his service. The past year he was recovering from the other four, recuperating mentally more than physically. He spent months helping others from the shadows and now there was nothing he could think of he could do to make up for that time. One road trip later and it looked like everything was said and done.

Was it? Nightmares couldn't be resolved through facing everything consciously. His subconscious would be fighting with what happened for the rest of his life, but at least he took out the major players in it. Matters between certain individuals were settled: Jericho, Starfire, Deathstroke, the convicts he once liberated, Eliza Brady... There were others he had handled, but none quite as significant as these. The hardest people to face were the ones he lived with, and doing that first helped him move onward. They were waiting for him now, always believing in him.

Eventually he smiled. "Yeah. I think I can. But can you?"

Bruce raised a critical eyebrow. "What do you think?"

Dick shook his head, bemused. Typical Bruce. Eventually the CEO turned towards the cave stairs and started towards them. "You coming?"

"Duh." Rushing forwards, the acrobat leapt onto his back playfully, just like he used to as a child. Instinctively his adoptive father latched his arms under the young man's knees to keep him still. Dick chuckled as he held onto him, demanding a piggyback ride. "With Alfie's ultimatum, of course I am!"


	15. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

No matter how old he got, Dick could never stand suits for any more than three hours. The first suit he wore was during his parents' funeral, so maybe that was why. Then there were the charity events he had to attend as a kid and all the rich people looking down their noses at him. Hated it. Strangely enough most of these events lasted only three hours. Or rather, the important parts only lasted three hours. After that, Alfred would let him loosen the tie, let out his shirt, and sometimes ditch the coat.

Considering the main event hadn't even started yet and he was already loosening everything, he could only think he'd been in this one all day long. The public announcement about his adoption and return was that morning, and a party in his honor was going to start in an hour. But that was cross town in Wayne Manor, where he was didn't need suits, but he wore it anyway out of laziness. Alfred was going to kill him, slowly.

Head in the clouds, Dick looked from the rooftop he was on to the site below. He could still see Mayor Krol standing unawares down below in his mind. City Hall was across from him and the guy was still in power, so nothing really had changed in the world. Only for him.

"Are you planning on missing your party?"

Smirking, the 100% official Wayne heir looked behind him. Count on Bruce to find him when all he wanted to do was think. But even when he wanted to think, he didn't want to be alone. "No. Just remembering."

He looked back across the street as he vocalized his thoughts. "It's been a year to date, since you found me on this roof."

"I remember." The billionaire stepped next to him, recalling himself. "You left that sniper rifle behind. The last time you cleaned it, a strand of your hair was in between the parts."

"That's how you IDed me." Honestly he figured it was something like that, but never asked. He was just glad they realized it was him.

Bruce nodded. "This is where it started to end."

"An end and a beginning. Almost poetic." Dick shook his head slightly, trying not to dislodge the gel keeping his hair still. Short, easy to manage hair. Oh how he missed it. The girls in his life missed it too. "Ya know, I don't really know why I left that rifle behind that day. I guess subconsciously I wanted you to find me. I still wanted you to save me. Back then, I thought I was dead inside."

"Not quite." The older man looked at him with some admiration. "Slade tried to destroy you, but you've risen from the ashes and taken flight once again. It's who you are, Nightwing."

A smile spread across the acrobat's face. "Admit it. You're flattered I picked that name."

"I'm flattered your subconscious never lost faith in me." His eyes rested on the spot the gun was left unattended at one year ago. "Slade was foolish to bring you back here. Criminals always make mistakes at one point or another and that was his."

"His loss is our gain." The bird looked to the sky and grinned to himself. Summer was coming once again, and this time he was going to enjoy it properly. Another road trip was in order, this one just for fun. Camping trips, late night walks, and lots and lots of crime fighting. Once he had a rhythm for himself again, he'd head out on his own once more, but in a better way than last time. "And what a gain."

They stayed there in silence for a few minutes before Bruce clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. "Come. The drive home might be long enough to look neat again."

Dick groaned inside as they turned back to the roof access to leave. "Do I really have to wear a suit for my own party?"

"Alfred insisted," his father stated evenly.

"Well maybe Slade should try making him his apprentice then," came his bitter joke. "I'd like to see how that'd work out. Slade wouldn't survive him at all."

"Oh? And what would be his code name?" A hint of amusement filled his voice. Dick thought about it for a moment and grinned.

"The Butler."

"The Butler?"

"Yeah!" His smile grew with every passing second. "Then when people ask, 'what happened?' they can honestly say, 'the Butler did it'."

Bruce suppressed a laugh, shaking his head as they left the roof. In some ways the lad would never change, no matter how bad it got. Dick Grayson would always be the one person Bruce could count on to rise above everything and fly free. He was a hero through and through, no matter what another did to try and change him. He was one meant to fly on forever.

END

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A/N: Thank you everyone for reading the 'Dead Inside' series. This is where it ends. The whole story was an extension of the apprentice episodes and making Dick go back on track with the rest of the DC universe after five years off the beaten path. Everything else that happened in the comics and tv shows still happened, starting with the "Death" of Superman, then later his wedding. I think I've given you a pretty good idea of what Dick's life was like with Slade during his apprenticeship so please don't ask for more. I'd also like it if you'd all stop watching the three stories 'Dead Inside', 'From ashes', and of course 'Taking Flight' so everyone has more space on their watch list. This little world here is OVER! *happy dance*

In other news, I have other stories to work on adn others to complete. Please check out the poll on my profile and comment on the titles you want completed to encourage progress. I've opened up a few of them I haven't touched in a while so things are progressing. The 52 still sucks in general (*sigh* I miss the Timmy I had here) but it has some good stuff that's inspirational. Young Justice may have ended but so did teen titans adn the stories keep coming here. None of us are done. If you have any questions about this or other stories, don't hesitate to ask.

Well, Until the next time! ^^V


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